


Angel Mine

by notchason



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol, Alex is a small ball of rage and sass, Alternate Universe - Library, Burr gets to be happy for once tbh, Canon-Typical Violence, Cliche, Drugs, Eliza and martha are the purest people here (both marthas), Gang Violence, Gangs, Graphic Violence, Human Disaster Aaron Burr, Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, Hurt/Comfort, James madison doesnt deserve this shit, King george is a terrible roommate, Library Sex, Multi, Post-Break Up, Sad, Slow Burn, THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A 25K FIC?? FOR A SINGLE SHIP?? NOT A NOVEL ABOUT GANG WARS HELP ME, Thomas acts all tough but tbh hes a slut for cuddling, Violence, Weed, Wheelchair Sex, Wheelchairs, a lot of chapters until the sexy times tho, kinda sad in the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2018-12-18 18:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11880612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notchason/pseuds/notchason
Summary: Alexander Hamilton is not really an interesting man. He's a librarian, lives in New York, and his legs are paralyzed. He is limited to moving in a wheelchair, but is managing just fine, all in all. Has a couple of best friends, a boyfriend, a few enemies, the usual.Or is it the usual?Betas: @confuzzled, @lafayetteourlord, @goatsenpai





	1. Vie De Merde...

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta-ed till chapter 10,,,,,,sorry bout that, pals
> 
> it's readable, i swear

_**BURRden [07:34am]**_  
_Why aren’t you at the library yet?_

_**A. Ham [07:34am]**  
wym? my shift starts at 2:30 pm ??_

_**BURRden [07:36am]**  
Didn’t Seabury tell you that there’s been a change in schedules? James M’s and your shifts are being changed until further notice. Yours starts at 7:30 and ends at 2:30, while his starts at 2:30 and ends at 10:30. It’s allegedly because James is having some trouble with health again, and he has doctor’s appointment at 8:45. Things will go back to usual soon enough._

Alexander sighs and indeed sees a new text from Seabury. He opens it. It was sent at 6:12, which was lovely. As if Alexander would be awake then. He would be late either way. The bastard could have sent it yesterday, he thinks.

_**SeaBURPy [6:12am]**  
u have to come in at 7 30 2day. dun be l8 m8._

Seabury has the most atrocious sense of proper grammar and punctuation Alexander has ever seen in a human being. There’s ‘text talk’ and then’s there’s Seabury. He’ll even tolerate Burr’s way of texting over Seabury’s. Enough dragging Seabury. He went on to reply to Burr.

_**A. Ham [07:40am]**  
yea ok ill be there in 15. _

_**BURRden [07:42am]**  
Can you make that 10? There’s more than a handful of people today. Most of them are highschoolers, and you know that the concept of a library is completely foreign to that bunch._

_**A. Ham [07:44am]**  
well i surely would be quicker if i, i dunno, had functioning legs and not a wheelchair to manage_

_**BURRden [07:45am]**_ _  
Whatever you say_.

Alexander groaned and wheeled over to the bedroom. He decided that he doesn’t have the time to change his pants, and decides momentarily that the ones from yesterday, that he currently wore, were more than sufficient to be worn for more days. He grabbed one of the first shirts that he managed, a dark grey hoodie which seemed a size too large. He didn’t give it much thought.

Luckily the elevator wasn’t crowded, and a man was kind enough to pull him in before the doors closed. Alexander winced at his slowness, and offered a man a thankful grin, which the man returned. When the man was not looking, Alexander subtly observed him; he had short-cut blonde hair, blue eyes, and was tall (maybe he was average height? He seemed tall from Alexander’s perspective), he wore a plaid button-up with sleeves pulled up around his sleeves. The bottom part of him wasn’t interesting; plain shoes and tight-fitted jeans (he had a nice ass, too).

Alexander made it out of the building in record speed, passing the people on the sidewalk, zooming around street laps and trash cans. The sight was comical, a couple of people stopped and laughed.

He maybe would have chuckled back, weren’t he in such a hurry.

He pushed past some kids at the entrance of the Liberty Library. A silly name, he’s aware; to by-passers, this looks like any other hole-in-the-wall library. Creaking floorboards, dusty shelves, books with yellowed pages. But any respectable person of this neighborhood knows that, even though the former might be true (this library wasn’t new nor renovated since Alexander started working) it had the largest variety of books. Maybe not in as many copies, but you can find anything from children’s books from some small, unimportant European country (see: “Fina Nina”) to the finest pieces of ancient literature. _You name it, we have it_ kind of deal.

Burr was leaned against the table, a book in hand. Alexander didn’t get to see what was it, before the man in question closed it, laid it face-first on the desk and looked down at him, “That was 7 minutes. Congratulations.”

“Shit, really?” Alexander squeaked. A mother looked pointedly at him from few feet away from them, a little girl next to her, whose ears were lightly covered by the mother’s hands. She shook hear head, Alexander shrugged as a sign of apology.

“Yeah, really,” Burr sighed, “Anyhow. Seabury is waiting. There’s a line of ten people waiting to get checked out.”

“On it.”

§

Alex, true to his word, got to work. He managed a lot of children today, showed them around. He loved working with kids, they were just so small, innocent and full of questions, waiting to absorb the newly made knowledge like sponges. He didn’t mind kids asking ‘personal’ questions, either. They wouldn’t use him against him, and they were too young to ‘pity’ him, or whatever sentimental nonsense people around them managed to pull out of their asses.

He was in the middle of a reading session in the “Kid’s corner”. The little ones’ book of choice for today was Charlotte’s Web. A classic. Alexander could respect that.

“… ‘ _You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte, ‘That in itself is a tremendous thing’_ ,” he read, when he saw Burr’s bald head poke in the small corner, slightly shielded by the toddler-sized bookshelves. Alex arched an eyebrow at him, a non verbal way to say ‘you’re interrupting, what do you want?’

“I have to go, Alexander, it’s kind of an emergency,” Burr said, his voice trembling and words coming out at a rate so fast he could spar with Alexander’s own, which was intriguing, “Theodosia is in labor, I -”

“Go, Burr, go, Jesus -” he glanced at the five kids around him, “- _fudgfircking_ Christ!” he ushered the man away by flailing his hands in vague gestures. He looked back at the bunch at his feet,

“Okay, you guys, Lexi has to go work now. We will get back to reading later, how does that sound?”

A little guy with ginger hair and freckled face squeaked, “But who will be reading to us, then?”

“Well, I am sure you can manage, eh? You’re all big girls and big boys!” Alexander cooed and rolled away, towards the reception desk. He leaned on his elbow and scanned the room. A good number of people left already, which was possibly a relief.

Alexander saw the man from the elevator come in just now. He didn’t give it much thought, until he walked into the sci-fi section of the library. Has a bad taste in books, duly noted, Alexander thought. Although Seabury did seem to take interest in him. Not a grand surprise; Seabury also has the worst sense in book genres than anyone he’s ever seen.

“He’s like, a solid 9.5, what do ya think, Hammy?” Seabury whispered, not even subtly.

“I don’t know,” Alexander sighed, “I’ll say 8.”

Seabury shook his head in disagreement, as if Alexander cared, and let his gaze wander around the library. After the initial morning rush, everything seemed to calm down rather quickly. Not many people came by, which was fine, Alexander supposed.

§

His nose was stuck in a copy of ‘The Great Gatsby’ when he heard a rather loud, “Who the fuck are you?” he looked up, putting his book aside. A man looked down at him with confusion spelled out on his face; his eyebrows were knitted together, his eyes were squinted and his lips were pressed together. He had rich dark skin and an explosion of dark curls on his head, framing his face quite nicely. Alexander could have potentially taken an interest in him, weren’t it for his outright hostility.

“Excuse me?” Alexander frowned back at him, hating the fact that he has to look up at him. Well, he has to look up at everybody, considering his situation, but this dude looks so tall that, even if Alexander could stand up on his feet, he’d still be a head and something shorter.

“You’re not James,” the man said.

“What an astute observation,” Alexander scoffed.

“Where’s James?”

“His shift was moved to the afternoon,” Alexander explained, “The reason behind it doesn’t concern you.”

The guy muttered a curse under his breath, looked around and then back at Alex, “Well, sorry about bothering you, then,” he said, irony lacing his words, and fished a phone out of his pocket, walked a few steps away and put it to his hear. Alexander pretended that he was back reading the book, while he was in fact, eavesdropping.

“Why haven't you told me, Jimmy?… Yeah, I know that. Well-… Fine, fine. 2:30?… Okay. Bye,” he said and then got lost among the bookshelves. Alexander scowled at him. This man looked like somebody James might know (… obviously), and that surely means that he’s a regular. If Alexander’s lucky, judging by how the man talked to him, he’ll want to avoid him at all cost. He doesn’t want to deal with so much negativity, especially in the workplace.

“ _Ayy_ , Alex!” John called from the library entrance. With a spring in his step, he bounced over to Alexander and slightly pulled his wheelchair away from the desk to kiss him. Alexander cupped John’s cheek, smiling into it. Laurens pulled back and used the back of the said wheelchair as leverage while leaning over to see what humongous book Alexander was on now.

“Alexander,” another familiar voice said, one Alexander would recognize in any given opportunity.

“’Liza!” he grinned and embraced her into a hug. The baby bump made it slightly awkward, but no matter, “What brings you two here? Don’t you have work?”

“Well, I took the maternity leave. It’s kind of difficult to deal with other children while bearing my own,” she chuckled.

“How’s Martha?” Alexander asked absently, as John ran his fingers through his hair, “How does she feel about having a kid?”

“Oh, she’s ecstatic!” Eliza squealed, “She coddles me. Unnecessary, in my opinion. One would think she’s more excited and worried about the pregnancy than I am.”

“Have you decided on any names?” John asked, pulling a chair over to sit next to Alex, who squeezed his hand when John interlaced their fingers.

“Well, if it turns out a girl, Martha is insisting on ‘Elizabeth’,” Eliza sighed fondly, “and if it turns out a boy, then ‘Philip’. We want the baby’s gender to be a surprise,” she smiled.

“That’s great,” Alex laughed a little, and then turned over to look at John, “Hey, Jack, I was thinking…”

“Yeah?” John asked, a slight tremble to his voice.

“We should go on a date tonight,” he explained, giving John’s hand a reassuring squeeze, “You know, for the sake of old times,” their 3rd anniversary was coming up in about two weeks, and sure, Alexander could wait until then to propose, but he just can’t wait anymore.

“Okay, sure,” John said, his lips curling into a barely noticeable grin. Eliza shook her head and made her way towards the shelves.

§

Alexander was sorting out the books on the bottom shelves, and Seabury was on duty on the top ones, when his phone buzzed and started playing the melody of ‘Prologue / Look Down’ from Les Misérables, a sign that his alarm went of, thus, his shift was over. He didn’t wait to finish his work, not to bid Seabury goodbye, when he rolled out and raced from the Library back to his building, admittedly, not as fast as earlier today.

John wasn’t home, he was probably still working. Mondays always seem to be the busiest; Laurens always has to leave to the hospital before Alexander even wakes up, and comes back home around 11, tired and grumpy. What a perfect opportunity for Alexander to cheer him up. Not that he usually doesn’t; Monday nights are always cuddly nights, when John slouches on the couch and Alex pulls himself out of the wheelchair and curls at his side. Laurens then threads his fingers through Alex’s hair, which lulls them both to sleep.

Alexander rolled into their shared bedroom and swung open the walk in closet (that’s the only think that works for him, given his inability to walk or reach high spaces). He pulled out a drawer with trousers, then picked a simple yet beautiful white dress shirt. He also picks out a red tie, because he always goes overboard like that. Once he picked his clothes, he lays them out on the bed and begins stripping. When he gets himself rid of his shirt and shoes, he weasels his way out of the wheelchair and squirms onto the bed, where he wiggles out of his jeans. He’s already a pro, if he may say so himself (he says so) when changing clothes, considering his legs are basically useless.

He hears John come home when he fastens his tie, and with a dopey smile on his face, he calls for his boyfriend (soon fiance, hopefully), who momentarily appears at the doorway. Alexander sees the way his eyes sparkle as the freckled man checks him out and saunters in, closing the door. He doesn’t manage to get a word out, before his face is full of Laurens. He’s kissing him all over, on the face, lips, neck, occasionally bites down however not too hard, so his skin doesn’t brake. Alexander huffs a laugh, “Jacky, what are you -” and he’s silenced with a kiss, pushed onto his back. He sees Lauren’s hands lifting up his legs rather than feels it. He lightly pushes against the man’s chest.

“Look, you insatiable man,” he laughs, “I know I am a good-looking piece of ass, but I ain’t gotten dressed like this for you to undress me immediately,” he lifts himself up back into the sitting position, “I am taking you out on a date, and after that…” he winks mischievously, “Well, we’ll see, in any case.”

“Whatever you say,” Laurens pecks lightly on the lips and ruffles his hair.

“You’re lucky I haven’t done anything about my hair, or I might cancel the dinner!” Alexander threatened without any bite, “Now, be a dear and put me back in my wheelchair, please.”

John sighed and rolled his eyes playfully, but nonetheless obeyed Alex’s request, “Should I put on something fancy?” he asks, glancing down at his hospital scrubs.

“Well, that’d be a good idea,” Alexander says sarcastically.

“Okay, okay,” John mockingly cried, “Get out now, I need privacy.”

“Says he, who wanted to fuck just a minute ago,” Alexander muttered, albeit loud enough to get a light smack upside his head, before placing his hand on the wheels and rolling out of the room. He made his way towards the kitchen, where he opened the cabinet below the sink (a place John never looks at) and grabbed a small, black velvet box out of it, threw it in the air and grabbed it again as it feel down. Then he made his way towards the hallway, where he grabbed his dark olive-green coat, which he pulled on. He put the box from before in one of the inside pockets, and tapped in with his hand on the outside, as if making sure that it was safe and sound (which it was).

When he turned around he saw John in his fancy black jeans and a similar button-down, on top of which he wore a beige sweater (knitted by hand by Hercules). He smiled broadly, taking few steps towards Alexander, as he tied his hair up in a bun. He grabbed his brown coat as well, opened the door, letting Alexander in the hallway.

“Somebody’s in a good mood,” John commented as he stood behind Alexander and started pushing his wheelchair.

“John, it’s almost our anniversary,” Alexander squeaked.

For a moment, there was dead silence. Did Alex say something wrong? Did he miss the correct date -? His thought process was cut of by John, sounding more cheerful than before, “And your impatient ass couldn’t wait like what, two, two and a half more weeks?”

“What can I say,” Alex said, “I could barely wait for the past week. I was tempted to tell you last Wednesday, but you seemed more down than usual, so I wasn’t going to.”

“Yeah,” John murmured as he obviously recalled what happened that Wednesday. Alexander read something about a 9-year-old girl losing the battle to cancer in the newspaper, and maybe it was safe to assume that John was one of the surgeons preforming the procedure.

“Anyways,” Alexander was eager to change the subject, “We’re going to Applebee’s”

“Applebee’s?” John snorted unattractively. Or at least, unattractively to some; at this point, nothing that John does is repulsive to Alexander. If he was asked, John snorted cutely.

“You took me to our first date there, Jacky, don’t you remember?”

“Alex, it’s been years,” John explained, “You can cling to those memories all you want, but for me, lives goes on. Not in a sense that I don’t care about our times together, but I live in the present. I cherish what I have, not what was that long ago.”

“Maybe you’re right. But just so it be known, I am more romantic than you’ll ever be.”

“Whatever you say.”

§

“I’ll have Cedar Salmon With Maple Mustard Glaze,” John returned the menu to the waiter.

“And I’ll have Bourbon Streets Steak,” Alexander decided and did the same.

They spent the dinner chatting and eating, and when neither of them spoke, it was a comfortable silence. When another waitress cleared their table, Alexander took a deep breath and fished the velvet box out of his pocket, when John wasn’t looking. Alexander doesn’t know if he was imagining it, or the whole restaurant went quiet.

“John, um,” Alexander started and cleared his throat. John arched his eyebrows at him, and then his gaze fell onto the small box in Alexander’s hands. His pupils widened, something Alexander didn’t see before he spoke, “When I first met you, I knew you were special,” this was going to be cheesy as fuck, Alexander came to realize, something he didn’t pay attention to before, but fuck it, “I always knew that I wanted to spend my life with you, but I never really paid much attention to it. Until recently, when I woke up next to you on a Saturday morning, plain as any other. You looked utterly breathtaking, at peace and possibly the most beautiful sight I’ve ever had the chance and honor to witness. And then I realized I wanted to spend all my life waking up to that sight. So, I am humbly asking you to wake up with me forever,” he flicked open the box with a ring, “John L-Laurens, will you marry me?” he let out a breath he didn’t knew he was holding.

There was silence. Everybody’s eyes were on the two of them, eyes of the other guests and staff.

“Alexander, I…” John stammered, “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, there are two possible answers to this, it’s rather simple,” he tried to joke to relieve the tension that fell upon the two of them.

“This is a lot,” the man across him swallowed, “I have to think.”

Silence again.

“What do you mean?” Alexander tried again, still holding the little velvet box in a shaky hand, “Jacky?”

“I can’t do this right now,” John bolted up abruptly, threw the handkerchief around his neck onto the table and raced out of the restaurant. Alexander felt a hand on his shoulder, probably one of the waiters. He shrugged it away with much more force than necessary, and wheeled away. Nobody called after him that he forget to pay the bill.

§

Alexander texted Lafayette casually to see whether John was at home or at their place. Lafayette said that he came over to them, and that Alexander shouldn’t worry so much about his boyfriend, because clingy can get annoying. Which was of course, in a playful connotation, and it was obvious that John hadn’t told their friends anything yet, which he supposes was fine. They don’t need to know anything yet.

Unfortunately, this means that Alex has to come back home to an empty apartment.

§

He woke up, and there was still not a trace of John. He picked up his phone. No new messages, which he doesn’t know whether should be find relieving or concerning. He doesn't want to face him now, but he still loves him very much, he doesn’t want him to get into any trouble, or lord forbid, accident.

_**A. Ham [07:12am]**  
laf is john still @ your place?_

_**Monsieur Lafayette [07:15am]**  
He is petit lion,,,,,,,,why are you worried about him? Had something happened between you two? He didn’t tell us anything…_

Alexander hates lying to his friends.

_**A. Ham [07:15am]**  
no, nothing important. i was just checking up on him. tell him that i wanted to talk about something when he wakes. _

_**Monsieur Lafayette [07:16am]**  
you worry me now, alex. r u sure everything is 100 p fine?_

_**A. Ham [07:18am]** _ _  
yes mom_

_**Monsieur Lafayette [07:19am]**  
fine, fine. u joke, but remember that you will need me some day_

Ah, little did Alexander know how soon will that ‘some day’ be.

Alexander willed himself out of bed, though that turned out to be quite a task, more so than usual. This was beyond getting into the wheelchair (although usually, John would help him by lifting him bridal style and placing him gently into the seat). He was tempted to just call in sick today, but reasoned with himself that work will be a healthy distraction. He knew that John never explicitly said that they’re over, but he doubts they could start over after this debacle.


	2. Sve Što Može Poći Po Zlu, Poći Će

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where we meet more members of the Washington family, Alexander finally meets his breaking point but still doesn't face the reality, and James Madison is really a sweetheart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I said there'll be more Thomas/Alex interaction in this chapter... I lied to you and I lied to myself, sorry.  
> ** I haven't got a first clue about how selling and buying apartments works, and while I'm usually all about finding more information, this is a topic that I find rather mundane. S o r r y

“Christ, Alex, are you okay?” Eliza asked over the phone, worry evident in her voice.

“I’m… I’m about as okay as one might be in my situation,” Alexander responded, phone on his shoulder and being held only by his tilted head, as he sent people away when their books got checked out. He vaguely heard Burr complaining, ‘You aren’t allowed to make calls during your shift!’ to which Alexander responded, “Yeah well, you can go suck my dick,” which Eliza promptly ignored, assuming it’s best not to meddle. Alexander’s statement also caused some expressions of shock and even fear on the customers, but he didn’t really care, now did he?

“Alex, you know it’s now wise to bottle up your emotions like that.”

“What are you on about, ‘Liza?” he said as casually as possible, “I’m not doing that. It’s barely been a day.”

“You’re full of shit now,” he heard her huff and rolled his eyes, “You always do that. Remember high school, with that Maria girl? Or college, with John André? You put on an act, just like now, it’s what you always do. For a month you haven’t shed a tear, and then bawled your eyes out on Angelica’s birthday party when somebody mentioned their past relationship.”

“…”

“I can hear you thinking, Alexander, and you know I’m right.”

“Maybe,” he said, “But no time for that now, I have to go work.”

“Alexand-”

“Bye!” he hung up. He had no time for this. Deep down, he knew she was right, she always was. But he just couldn’t listen on about it, otherwise he’ll break down in the middle of the library. Nobody needs to witness that, now do they? (They don’t. We’ve established that. Good. Is Alexander talking to himself in his head? Probably. He’s slowly slipping into madness, something he knew was inevitable to happen one day, but he never imagined it to happen so soon.)

(He’s overreacting.)

(Goddammit.)

“Oh goodie, it’s you,” he heard a growl from above.

“Nice too see you too, fucktard,” he acknowledged the man’s presence with a condescending sneer. The man laid out two books on the desk in front of Alexander. One of them was one of those foreign ones he didn’t know how to pronounce, and the other was… _Warrior Cats_? “What, are you like 12?” Alexander snorted while scanning it.

“First of all, did you read this shit? There are scenes not appropriate for highschoolers, and are fit for a horror movie, in my opinion, in these books” the man said, his voice oddly leveled, “And second of all, they’re for my niece.”

“What a neat excuse,” Alexander mused.

“Fine, don’t believe me,” he said, picking up the two books Alexander slid towards him, “Bye.”

Alexander didn’t bid him goodbye, though. He glanced over at Seabury, and saw the man’s eyes glued to something in the distance. He was wondering what was on the other man’s mind, until he saw the man from the elevator bent over, some books having fallen out of his hold while he carried them, “Be a gentleman and go help him, don’t ogle his ass all day, for Christ’s sake,” Alexander scoffed.

Seabury seemed to be caught off-guard, obviously not expected to be called out on his fanboying. He dumbly nodded and got up, strolling towards the man. He tapped his shoulder and the blond turned around. He smirked and checked Seabury out. Alexander couldn’t see it, but he knew Seabury was sweating buckets over there, if tugging on his collar was anything to go by. He crouched down and handed the man the rest of his books, and they held a light conversation on their way to where Alex was, that is, the reception desk.

He didn’t bother trying to catch what the chatter was about, but enjoyed when he occasionally glanced and saw Seabury’s cheeks, red as a tomato. Seabury was desperately bad at attempting to flirt, of course, Alexander knew that. The man, however, seemed to be enjoying that almost as much as Alexander. Alex smirked.

He picked up a, “… George Frederick, nice to meet you, Sam.” The man had a British accent, very prominent and only slightly annoying.

§

Alexander doesn’t know when was the last time he desperately wanted to get out of the library, he doesn’t think that ever happened. Until today. Everybody around him was having the ol’ jolly good time, everybody was so annoyingly positive. Burr’s wife gave birth to a daughter yesterday, Seabury (fucking Seabury, the awkward, pitiful bastard with zero social skills) possibly scored a date.

What makes him the most upset was that not Lafayette nor Hercules called, or texted, to check how was he doing. John must’ve told them, there’s no way he’d spend more than a day at their place without them asking any question. And Hercules is pretty good at detecting bullshit.

Alexander, however, didn’t expect to see John when he got home. John was standing in the middle of the hall, with a suitcase in hand a duffle bag hoisted up across his shoulder. His mouth feel agape, and John looked mildly surprised.

“Alexander,” he stated.

“Hi, John,” Alexander swallowed, knowing full well that he’ll probably be saying goodbye to him any moment now.

“I just came to pick up my stuff, I’ll be on my way now,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically meek.

A pause, “We’re over?” he asked, although he was aware of the answer all to well.

“I-,” John stuttered, “I don’t know. But I do know that I need space right now.”

Alexander chuckled bitterly. He knew what that meant, he wasn’t born yesterday. But oh well, if John so chooses to avoid the truth, he’ll play along, “Fine. I assume you’re staying with Laf and Herc?” John nodded, “Have you told them?”

John hesitantly nodded, “I had to.”

“I understand,” he doesn’t.

“Well, in any case,” John walked out, “I’ll see you around.”

“Probably not,” Alexander murmured, and if John heard him, he didn’t address it, much less respond.

§

“You can’t sell the apartment, Alexander, this is madness!” Martha Washington said. Alexander came by their place for a coffee, and was not hoping to be inquired like that at all. Lafayette must’ve told both of his parents.

“I can and I will, Martha,” Alexander muttered sipping the tea from the cup because Martha refused to make more coffee for him. Alexander didn’t like tea.

Martha sighed and looked at him with eyebrows scrunched and pain all over her face. Alex didn’t like how compassionate she was, always taking everybody’s feelings into account, always offering her condolences, always feeling like she had to make everybody feel better.

“Anyways, how’s Danny?” Alexander asked, for the sake of changing the subject. Daniel Parke Curtis Jr. is Martha’s first and only biological child, from her first marriage. Daniel is older than Alexander by about 5-6 years, and has always been a brother figure in his life, no matter the fact that Alexander was adopted into the Washington family. He’s always been there for him, and has been the one Alex always talked about when he had any kids of problems (ones that maybe he was too shy to discuss with George or Martha).

“Daniel is doing okay,” Martha smiled a little, “I hear that he’s bought a new apartment in Seattle, that is, he moved from Portland.”  
“That’s nice,” Alexander murmured.

Their conversation was interrupted by the buzzing from Alexander’s phone. He saw a notification that he’s gotten an e-mail, and in the preview of it, he saw that somebody answered his Craigslist ad.

Alexander doesn’t usually go on Craigslist, but this was a kid of an emergency. He’s looking to get rid of that apartment as soon as possible. He decided that he can’t get out of this building, simply because he’s figured out the fastest ways to navigate the hallways, is relatively close to his work and a lot of people he knows and is friends with live nearby. He knows that Madison is one floor above him, for example, and Maria Lewis (albeit she’s more of an acquaintance) is couple of stories below. Eliza and Martha live across the street, while Lafayette and Hercules are one block away. It’s an ideal location.

Therefore, when he couldn’t find anybody that needs a temporary roommate, he decided that he himself should post an ad. It said that he was looking for a – well – _temporary roommate_ , on this and this address, that he’ll help paying rent and will move out as soon as he’s able to find a place to live on his own. He didn’t expect to hear from somebody this soon (he posted merely two days ago) but he was glad. He excused himself shortly from Martha and moved to the other end of the patio they were on. He read the e-mail. It said.

_**From: George Frederick [[george.frederick@gmail.com](mailto:george.frederick@gmail.com)]  
04:25 PM** _

_Good day, mate. My name is George Frederick, and I would like to take you up on the offer of sharing an apartment, as seen on Craigslist. I have just moved into the building you’re interested in. The only reason behind it is probably the rent, but don’t be mistaken; if you’re one of the following, I would politely withdraw my offer:_

_1\. Are incredibly messy_  
2\. Have no sense of privacy  
3\. Make a lot of noise when noise is not to be made (i.e. in the late hours of night)  
4\. Invite a lot of people over without consulting me, or at least notifying me (i.e. hosting some kind of a party; this is not like, if you have a friend or two come over.)  
5\. Use illegal drugs  
6\. Are addicted to alcohol  
7\. Smoke (I have asthma)

_Furthermore, I will be out of town tomorrow, so I would like to meet you in two days – does Friday work for you?_

_I hope you can contact me soon so we can furthermore discuss this._

_George._

The name sounded vaguely familiar, like he heard it somewhere, or read about it, but he can’t place it. It’s not important right now. He went on to reply, when another mail popped up in his inbox.

_**From: Charles Lee [[char.lee@hotmail.com](mailto:char.lee@hotmail.com)]  
04:27 PM** _

_Hello, Mr. Hamilton. I hope you’re having a good day._

_I am contacting you regarding your ad that states you’d like to sell your apartment. I am interested in buying it as soon as possible. I hope I am not responding too late, and that somebody’s already gotten to it, but seeing as the offer is still up when I’m writing this, I don’t think so._

_I would like to further discuss it over a drink, perhaps, and then we’ll manage it. I am available only today this week, but if that isn’t a good time for you, next week works for me. I just so happen to be quite busy at the moment._

_Best regards,_

_C. Lee._

Oh, Lord.

§

Alexander low-key panics, now that two things appeared on his schedule too fast for his liking. So much so that he somewhat forgot about John. This is actually happening… okay, alright. He supposes he should respond to Charles first, since he’ll obviously be meeting him before George. He put his phone away and rolled back over to Martha, who awaited with a very small grin onto his face.

“What was so urgent for you to leave like that?” she asked casually.

“I, uh-” he contemplated telling the truth, “Burr was complaining about the books’ arrangement today,” he winced, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“I see,” she mused, “I heard Mr. Burr has gotten a daughter?”

“Yeah,” Alexander was relieved that they stirred away from the still sore subject of Alexander’s personal life… onto somebody else’s personal life, “Yeah. Theodosia has given birth couple of days ago.”

“How nice. I take it this is his first kid?”

“Yeah.”

§

Alex had about a one more day to get out of his apartment. He knew that he isn’t going to meet Lee in a week, but tomorrow, and that he has to have his shit out today already. Maybe he didn’t think this through. And since he’s basically apartment-less until Friday, possibly more, he has to figure something out ASAP. Staying at his parents isn’t an option, since he so cleverly lied about not selling the apartment. He also can’t stay at Burr’s place, because the man is surely preoccupied now. Eliza and Martha aren’t an option because of a similar reason, and Laf and Herc were never on the table.

He doesn’t really have much stuff, to be fair, and John has pretty much rid the place of any of his belongings the day he came to pick up his things, which was good. Alex rounded up his clothing on the bed, and will be packing it into his suitcases soon enough. Lee will meet him at the bar across the street in about twenty minutes, and Alex plans to ask him if the boxes with things like pots, pants, pictures and such can stay until Friday. He hopes Lee will be reasonable enough.

He held his phone in his hand as he scrolled through Twitter, when a text came.

_**Danny [05:34pm]**  
a cup of hot tea really heals your soul,,,,tis true science _

_**A. Ham [05:35pm]**  
actually, a cup of anything warm in your hands mimics human warmth which is said to have calming properties. so yes its true. the tea mimics the need for human care, touch and recognition._

_**Danny [05:35pm]**  
im going to cry im so lonely now and all I have is this fucking cup of leaf water_

_**A. Ham [05:36pm]**  
calm down bro martha will be back soon_

_**Danny [05:37pm]**  
howd u know I am at my moms_

_**A. Ham [05:38pm]**  
she made me drink tea too, earlier when I came by_

Alexander laughed at the thought of his brother crying over a cup of tea, and generally that was what put his mind to peace, temporary as it may be. It’s nice to occasionally be reminded that your family hasn’t forgotten you, even with Danny’s weird-ass, out of the blue messages.

He turned the TV, having gotten sick of the deafening silence in the room. He put on the Discovery channel, which proved to be a good idea, because some show about kittens was on. Alexander laughed.

Ha, bottling up emotions! He surely wouldn’t do that…

§

Alexander was getting more and more anxious at work, as the meeting with Lee came closer every moment. His mind was also unusually cloudy, and once or twice he actually ignored the customers right in front of him, being so deep in his thoughts that he failed to see them until they waved a hand in front of his face or abruptly cleared their throat. He’d apologize quickly, but he knew it’ll happen again.

Finally, 2:30 rolled around and he got out of the library. He was trying to be careful when crossing the road, but ended up having to be pushed a little by a stranger when his hands seemed to fail to cooperate. He wheeled away from whoever did that as quickly as possible, hoping to lessen his embarrassment as much as possible.

He’s never seen Lee except on the tiny icon on his mail, but he could easily spot the man with black hair slicked to one side and shaved on the other, sitting in the said bar. He approached him, “Hello, I’m Alexander Hamilton, at your service, sir. I have been looking for you,” he chuckled.

“Charles Lee,” the man smiled but his eyes were squinted as he said, “Nice to finally see you too.”

§

The talk went on relatively smoothly. When Alexander asked whether he could leave three of his boxes with his belongings for a day, Lee agreed. They only talked for about an hour, before Lee said he has a late shift and that he has to go. Alexander knows that feeling well, and he excused himself as well. He bid goodbye Usnavi, his old friend who worked there, and made his way back to the apartment, the one mentioned so many times.

He finished packing, and then thought about where will he spend the one day gap between moving in with George. Because Lee has the key already, Alexander has no place in there. So many people he already crossed out as an option, he thinks he’ll have to spend it at a hotel.

He was scrolling through his contacts, until his finger hovered over a name that read ‘Jimmy James’. He hasn’t talked to him in a while, mainly because they didn’t work in the same shift, but also because – while they used to be something like best friends – they were barely on talking terms now. Alexander doesn’t remember what happened, it’s been such a long time. But, James does live one story above him, so it’s worth a try… right?

_**A. Ham [08:03pm]**  
Hey, Madison, it’s Hamilton. I have a favor to ask. Please respond as soon as possible._

Luckily for him, a reply arrived only about ten minutes later

_**Jimmy James [08:13pm]**  
Hi. Okay… what do you need?_

_**A. Ham [08:13pm]**  
I am selling my apartment, and I have nowhere to stay. I need a place to crash at for a single night. I know you live above me so… Can I stay at yours?_

_**Jimmy James [08:14pm]**  
Fine by me, but I have to consult my roommate. Give me a minute._

Alexander exhaled and rubbed his eyes sleepily.

_**Jimmy James [08:17pm]**  
He says it’s fine. Do you want to use the couch? Because I do have an air mattress… _

_**A. Ham [08:17pm]**  
An air mattress would be way too much to ask. Couch will do. I’ll be gone by 7 tomorrow, because I have work either way. Thank you so much for this._

_**Jimmy James [08:18pm]**  
It’s chill, Hamilton. No need to thank me. Do you need help to carry anything or? Like, if you’re moving, I imagine you have suitcases or whatever. _

_**A. Ham [08:19pm]** _ _  
I only have one suitcase and a backpack, so no, thank you. I’ll be upstairs in a minute._

§  


True to his word, Alexander did come up fairly soon. It was easy, since the elevators were a thing in his building. James Madison was waiting for him at the doorway, and even smiled while letting him in. Alexander felt only a little awkward about this, mostly because he hasn’t had a civil conversation with the man since college (Yes, he wanted to be a lawyer but it’s hard to find a job. Same thing with Madison and Burr, actually).

James was sick, much like Burr informed Alexander, and he went to sleep pretty quickly. His roommate, whom with he shared a bedroom apparently, didn’t really come out. James said he was working on some paper (he’s a journalist, he’s been told). He only got out once, to grab something in the kitchen. Alex looked at him and opened his mouth to say ‘hello’, and try to be a pleasant guest, but the moment their eyes locked, the idea of being polite feel into the water.

“What the hell are you doing here?” said the man.

“Crashing at my friend’s house. I could ask you the same thing!” Alexander hissed.

James, apparently stirred away by the noise, came out of the bedroom, “Oh, Thomas, I see you already met Alexander?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still un-beta'd. sorry bout dat
> 
> ily you all


	3. Estoy Bien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nicholas is mentioned here literally only because I'll need him in the future, because he doesn't know anybody other than Alex in this fic; keep in mind that he's one of Alexander's childhood friends, and was in the same orphanage in Nevis as he was (P.s. he was a real person in history)

“Oh, Thomas, I see you already met Alexander?” James’ question hung in the air as the two other men apparently decided to have a stare-down.

“I suppose you could say we _ran_ into one another once or twice,” Thomas said, and then glanced at Alexander with a smirk on his face, “… oh wait.”

“How very funny. You should be a comedian,” Alexander seethed.

“What’s going on here? I’m lost,” James sighed, “Thomas?” he looked expectantly at his friend.

Thomas said nothing, just sighed and walked over to the kitchen, taking something out of the fridge. Alexander hadn’t been here for longer than an hour, and he already wishes he spent this night in a hotel.

Truth be told, he isn’t really sure what exactly happened between Thomas and himself; all he’s aware of was that they called each other names whenever they met in the library (which was twice), and now they’re enemies? He doesn’t know what did he exactly do to piss Thomas off so much, but so be it. He’ll play along.

James raised an eyebrow expectantly at Alexander, who now shifted himself on the couch (which was unexpectedly large and soft. But then again, he knew that James comes from old money. Virginian aristocracy, undoubtedly like Thomas, if the specks of southern accent in both of their voices were anything to go by). Alex, however, politely ignored James’ silent question, which James didn’t seem to mind too much. The man walked over in the direction of the kitchen, presumably wanting to get some answers out of Thomas. Likewise, soon enough, Alex heard a low rumble of their voices behind the closed door. He ignored it.

He saw a blanket and a pillow neatly folded at the edge of the couch. He grabbed it and arranged it so he can sleep. The TV in front of him was on, and Alexander decided to watch it; it was one of those annoying game-shows, but he wasn’t in place to choose now. He saw no remote, either way. He glanced at the clock; it was getting pretty late.

“Night,” he heard James murmur behind him. Alex craned his head to look at him, “Sorry about Thomas. I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” he chuckled.

“It’s fine, Madison, don’t bite yourself over it,” Alexander smiled lightly. Madison nodded, smiled back and left towards his bedroom.

§

He woke up quite early, before his alarm has gotten off, even; that didn’t really happen often. John usually had to stir him awake after Alexander subconsciously put the alarm on snooze. How funny his mind reminded him of that.

He got up and was attempting to get himself seat into his wheelchair. He glanced at the clock; it was 6:15. He has enough time not to rush it. Alexander still has to work on this bit (John usually used to help him with that too). He shifted into a sitting position and reached for it. He placed his hands on the handles and took a deep breath before lifting himself up with his forearms (a thought crosses his mind that the fact that he sometimes hit the gym was definitely an advantage right now – he used to go and do pull-ups).

Alex was almost there. He just had to turn around and he’ll plop into position. But no. Because universe hates him.

Because he was putting too much pressure on it, the wheelchair moved backwards and this resulted in him falling face-first on the floor with a loud thud, accompanied by an even louder yelp. The crash caused a commotion in the bedroom, and in a moment, Thomas appeared in the hallway. Alexander twisted on the floor so that he was almost on his side. Even though the couch blocked the hallway, he was almost certain that Thomas was on the verge of laughing.

“I know I have a nice ass, you jackass, but it’d be nice if you’d stop staring and give me a hand,” Alexander sounded pretty annoyed – rightfully so. He didn’t hear Thomas’ steps, until he felt two large, warm palms under his armpits, lifting him up and smoothly putting him down in the wheelchair (Alexander will never admit, but the gentleness of the man’s moves was quite refreshing). “Thanks.”

“My pleasure, you incompetent little hobbit,” Thomas made a face that clearly implied that he was not pleased at all. He walked away then, and Alexander got ready to head off to work. He didn’t really care about Thomas, but he hoped that he didn’t wake up James. He has some manners, okay, and he doesn’t really want to be deemed as ungrateful for James letting him crash here. He left the house without making much noise, at 6:30, almost an hour before work. He doesn’t know what will he do now, since he has literally nowhere to be, and the library doesn’t open before 7.

He was right about to turn around a corner, when his phone began ringing. When he saw the contact name, he beamed at the device, and answered it.

“Buenos días!” came from the other side of the line, “¿Cómo está usted?”

“Nicholas Cruger… Well, I’ll be dammed!” Alexander exclaimed, “Estoy bien, que pasa contigo?”

“I’ve been good, old friend,” he said, “I’m surprised you’re awake this early. What’s up?”

“Well, I’m headed off to work. What about you? Do you need anything?” Alexander asked, a tiny bit worried.

He heard Nick laugh, “I, uh, my cat accidentally dialed your number, but I was surprised when you picked up. Lo siento…”

“Ah, I see. It’s okay,” he shrugged it off, “Well, I should be on my way now, though.”

“Of course. Hasta luego!”

“Adiós.”

Alexander sighed and continued on his way.

§

He wasn’t surprised when he reached the library and it was still locked. Luckily, right across it there was a park; it probably had a name, but everybody just knew it as ‘the dog park’. Well, everybody that lived around here. He carefully wheeled across the street, grateful that he didn’t need somebody else’s assistance this time – because my Lord, was that yesterday embarrassing. He really needed to stop thinking about it, otherwise he’ll die to internally cringing.

The park was empty, he didn’t expect anything less. He saw a stray cat or two, some birds at the bird fountain. He managed to make his way across one of the bridges and then… he just stopped. He didn’t even register it. His hands gave up as his eyes rested on the horizon. Alexander doesn’t know how he hadn’t realized it before, but this very place was the one where he and John shared their first kiss after their second date. It was where John lifted him up from the wheelchair and put him on the bridge wall, so he could have the unobstructed view of the river and the sunset.

Alexander felt a tear tricking down his cheek, but he was too deep in thought to wipe it away.

His thoughts left the park, metaphorically, and gradually, his mind decided to remind him of every single memory he had with John at once; like the time they went to visit John’s grandmother in South Carolina and her dog (Mimi, the bullmastiff) decided that she liked Alex so much she jumped up to hold herself up on her two hind legs, while her front ones were planted on the side of Alexander’s own, and she licked all across his face. Or the time John, Lafayette and Hercules all went out for a ‘guy’s night’ (as if they had girlfriends they all ‘needed brakes from’) and, since they were still a freshly baked couple, John wouldn’t let go of his hand, their fingers interlaced.

John also took Alex out to the Time Square to celebrate New Year’s. He kissed him as the big ball went down and everybody cheered. John also kissed him whenever there was a mistletoe in sight, and once even kept a mistletoe above their kitchen entrance well after Christmas, as an excuse to kiss Alexander every time the man entered the kitchen and John was there (and John was always there, since he loved cooking). And then Alexander would say that he didn’t need ‘an excuse’ and that he could kiss him whenever.

He didn’t know that he was sobbing into his hands until a bird landed on his leg and scared him out of his trance. His eyes hurt with how much he rubbed at them, undoubtedly red-rimmed and puffy. His nose was running now, which was fantastic, because he didn’t have tissues with him (why would he, in the middle of august?). He had to breathe with his mouth all the way back from the park, and his lips were so uncomfortably dry when he reached the library, at about 7:02. He prayed that maybe Burr got here earlier and could let him in, because he needed an occupation, something to do to stir him away from the reality of his love life.

Unlikely, luck was on his side. He saw Burr’s silhouette right off the bat, and let out a loud sigh. He pushed open the door and rolled inside. Burr looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Should I ask?” he inquired. Alexander looked at him once, and that was a good enough of a response to Burr, so it seemed. Alexander made his way behind the reception desk, and promptly fell asleep.

§

He was awoken from his slumber by somebody tapping on his head. He blinked twice and looked up. Wouldn’t you know it, Mr. Thomas once again happened to grace the library with his presence – Alex glanced at the clock – at 7:45 AM. Lovely.

He was wearing regular jeans and a grey pullover. It had holes around the collar, and Alexander couldn’t exactly tell whether they were ‘fashionably’ here or not, but he hated to admit either way, he looked good.

Alexander groaned, “What?”

“Is this how you greet your favorite customer? My, my, I am truly disappointing with your work ethic,” the smug bastard replied.

“Isn’t James’ shift in the afternoon? Why do you insist on pestering me?” Alexander asked, “Besides, why do you do in the library every day? You were here just yesterday.”

On that note, Thomas tossed a book on the table. The Warrior Cats one, “Niece didn’t like it. I’m just returning it, hobbit.”

“Don’t call me that,” Alexander murmured while taking the book into his hands.

“Or what, you gonna come after me?” Thomas bit his lip while smirking.

Alexander looked up, raised his eyebrows and didn’t pay much attention to him after saying, “Honestly, you did seem like a shitty person when I first saw you, but I never quite anticipated that you’d go so low to make cripple jokes.”

Thomas was silent after that. However, he did retreat back into the rows and rows of bookshelves, far from Alexander’s sight.

§

Alexander texted with Frederick for a while, because the man was still on the plane from San Diego when they were supposed to meet (the flight was late), and now Alexander was informed he was on the bus and only hours away from New York. They agreed that Alexander would come by the apartment at 4, when he’s settled, and then discuss anything they haven’t already in there. He’d show Alexander his room, and maybe they could begin forming some kind of a friendship.

Alex saw Lee when he entered the building, and Lee politely said hi. Alexander informed him that he’ll be moving the rest of his stuff from the apartment, which Lee agreed to.

George’s apartment was one story above his former one; it’s at the end of the hall, on the left side, with the number 885. He knocked twice, when the man opened the door.

“Oh! Alexander Hamilton?” he asked, British accent coating his words.

“George Frederick, nice to meet you,” Alexander smiled and shook his hand, “I don’t believe we’ve met before, but I have seen you around.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you too. You work at the library, right?” George asked, letting him in. Alexander confirmed, and they went on discussing things regarding their future living in this place.

§

First week of living with this man has gone overwhelmingly well. He turned out to be a year older than Alexander, although held himself and spoke as if he’s some kind of old royalty. Alexander didn’t mind it, though his accent could get annoying when he was sleepy, because it was so much more prominent then.

“Frederick, I swear to God, if I come home once again and there is no milk in the fridge, I’ll be pissed,” Alexander bellowed from the kitchenette. He heard George shuffling in his room. Alexander assumes he was playing some silly multiplayer game again. He sighed. Spoiled British brat.

The kitchenette door swung open, and Alexander maneuvered his wheelchair around so that he was facing him. “You called?” George said, sarcasm as clear as day, but there was no bite behind the word as it used to be.

“Yes,” Alexander hissed, “at least throw the empty bottles out, for Christ sake! I am the backbone of this household!”

“Are you done throwing a hissy fit over milk?” George scoffed, “Somebody’s grumpy today.”

“I didn’t throw a ‘hissy fit’, moron, I am complaining that I, a cripple, have to do everything around here,” Alexander countered.

“Woe is you,” George threw his hands up in mock defeat, a smirk on his face, making Alexander huff with irritation and stroll away to the living room. He grabbed the remote from the coffee table and shifted himself from the wheelchair to the couch with a little struggle. Well, given his situation, he was lucky that his upper body strength was extraordinary for a man of small statue like himself. He mindlessly switched between channels, trying to drown out the rapid clicking coming from George’s room.

He got a text from Burr today, saying that James Madison’s health has improved and that his shift is again 2:30. That was kind of a relief; he didn’t like waking up this early. If he wasn’t living with George, he’d also be grateful he doesn’t have to deal with Seabury’s sorry ass anymore, but that kind of isn’t true; George and Seabury are ‘something’, as George so eloquently puts it, so Seabury does end up visiting their place too much times for Alexander’s liking. On the bright side, they haven’t had sex while Alex was home, so at least they were considerate.

Lafayette rung him up once, but their conversation was rather awkward. John was in the room too, Alex heard him and Hercules cheering on some team on the TV, and the crunch of popcorn.

He also found out more about that Thomas dude.

He was two years Alexander’s senior, studied at some prestigious university, and was double majoring political science, in which he as a degree, and journalism. Apparently he’s writing a column for a newspaper for now. He comes from Virginia, and apparently his parents are filthy rich. His father sells engagement rings and mother is a lawyer.

This was all of the information Burr was willing to spill, because apparently he knows the guy from before. Burr also claims he’s actually a kind man, but Alexander has yet to witness that.

§

The elevator broke. Which was just lovely. Alexander doesn’t know how will he managed to get out of the building now, because while George does occasionally assist him, he’s off to work as well. He’s standing in front of the staircase, looking down as if his gaze will teleport him down, if he manages to stare intently enough.

He hears somebody walking and silently prays that this somebody will be kind enough to very carefully get him down a number of staircases until they reach the lobby. But, his luck would have it that the people who appear are Jefferson and Martha.

Martha is okay, Alexander likes her. Not Jefferson, though.

“Need help, Alexander?” Martha called.

“I, uh,” he stammered. Jefferson smirked, “help would be nice, actually.”

“Thomas will get you up and I’ll push the wheelchair, okay?” Alexander nodded as the two of them climbed up to get him. Alexander wasn’t surprised when Jefferson lifted him up like it was no effort, since he’s done it about a week ago as well, but was surprised when the man settled on carrying him bridal style without thinking twice. He vaguely heard Martha with the wheelchair behind them as he endured the burning embarrassment of being carried by your arch nemesis for ten floors.

Ah, there are no words to express how much he hated it; hated feeling dependent on anyone, especially Jefferson. When he was placed back into the chair, he zoomed out of the building without looking back twice. He could practically feel Jefferson’s smirk on the back of his neck.


	4. Es Tut Mir Leid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that canonically, George III and Alexander didn't meet, and if they did, they probably would despise one another. However, Lin and Groff have such a good friendship, and I love the idea of their characters being in a healthy and fulfilling platonic relationship (somewhat like John and Alex are in any other fic of mine) so I just HAD to make it happen. So sorry about it not being canon compliant whatsoever :P

When his shift finished, Alexander was planning on going straight home, to his shared apartment. He absolutely had no desire to stick around any longer. But, his luck would have it that one Angelica Schuyler just so happened to come by the library and commanded that he’ll accompany her to visit the Theodosias. Alex didn’t know if Burr knew, since man was still adamant on finishing sorting out books on the shelves, which was not by any means an easy task (since there’s so much of them and people are lazy, putting books wherever they please without even trying to make it easier for the librarians here. Sigh.) but there was no arguing with Angelica once she put her mind to something. Which right now seemed to be disrupting Alex’s schedule. How very kind of her.

“… and you are so sure I should witness this?” Alexander attempted to argue, against his better judgment, “I mean, I’ve only met Theodosia once or twice, and I don’t really like Burr. I’ll not fit in at all -”

“Oh, hush, Alexander,” Angelica rolled her eyes, careful as Alexander’s wheelchair almost went over a pothole, “Anyways, as I was saying; everybody from the neighborhood is going to be there. It’s like a baby shower, but with the baby,” she shrugged.

“Whatever,” Alex said, like an overgrown child, “I still feel like this is just an excuse to get me out of the apartment, which I don’t get, because I spend so little time in there as it is -”

“Shut,” Angelica ordered, and Alex didn’t dare disobey.

After some more walking/pushing the wheelchair in silence, Alex asked, “Who’s gonna be there? You said ‘everybody’, but like… define, please?”

Angelica sighed, “Eliza, Peggy – possibly Maria – Martha, um, Madison, Jefferson -”

“Jefferson?” Alexander squeaked, voice too high pitched for his liking.

“Thomas Jefferson, yes,” Angelica clarified with some annoyance in her tone, which Alexander promptly ignored, “Do you have a problem with him?” she asked warily.

“No, not at all,” Alexander lied. He couldn’t see her face, but he’s pretty sure Angelica didn’t buy the response for a minute. If that was the case, she didn’t say anything, and in only a couple of minutes, they found themselves in front of Theodosia and Burr’s apartment complex.

§

“Well, if it isn’t Angelica Schuyler!” Theodosia Sr. greeted them with a smile, “Mr. Hamilton -”

“Alexander, please,” he smiled.

“Alexander, in that case,” she smiled again and let them inside. The place was more or less filled with people, a crib in the middle of the room, next to the couch. Martha and Eliza sat on it, inseparable as ever. Sickeningly cute, John used to say, and Alexander would agree, saying that he got cavities every time he looked at them, “Please, settle down.”

Then there was Madison, next to the aforementioned pair of girls, and none other than Thomas Jefferson, on the arm rest, next to his buddy. He was cradling a baby in his arms, and he assumed that that was Theodosia Jr. Alexander tried not to reflexively bristle when Jefferson looked back at him. The man didn’t seem to pay much mind to Alexander.

On one of the chairs was a girl he never met, but she held a striking resemblance to Martha, so maybe they were related? Alexander didn’t know and had no time or interest to speculate on such unimportant matters. He settled himself next to an empty armchair next to the couch, directly across the door, albeit he still felt uncomfortably close to Jefferson. However, that didn’t seem to cause an issue, as the man was preoccupied by looking and cooing at the baby. Little Theodosia, or as he was later informed – Teddy – made little giggles, and at one point, some saliva ended up on Thomas’ face in the midst of a particularly loud fit of laughter. Alexander silently snickered, still not sure why he was watching them, but he was far enough so that Jefferson couldn’t notice him, so he supposes it way okay.

Occasionally he’d join in to the conversation; as it turns out, Theodosia was quite a funny lady, with a far better sense of humor than Burr. She ought to teach the man her ways, Alex thought with a serene smile, as he found himself genuinely enjoying the company of all the people here.

He also found out that the girl he didn’t recognize immediately was Sarah – Sally, she insisted – Hemings, Martha’s step-sister. Their father, John Wayles, had a mistress, that is, Sally’s mom (Betty Hemings) and even though they never expected to cross paths, when Sally’s mom died, they met at the funeral. They were only toddlers then, and blissfully unaware that they were related. John claimed that Betty was in fact, his co-worker, and the truth hadn’t come out in years after that. Neither of the girls is certain how it did, however, but Martha’s mom (coincidentally, also called Martha. Martha Eppes-Wayles) divorced John. Sally was a freshman and Martha was a senior in high school by then, and were glad to finally know the truth. With all the sudden drama in the family, they became even closer.

Alexander even held the baby at some point, delighted to have the opportunity. She was just so soft, with delicate, light brown skin and some freckles across her cheeks, slightly curly hair and dark eyes. Adorable.

But, all good things come to an end, and so after two or so hours of mindless chatter, Alexander retreated towards his apartment. When he announced that he’ll be leaving, Madison jumped in, saying that since they live in the same building, he might as well go now too. But of course, with Madison automatically goes Jefferson, since the two seem to be conjoined at the hip. Which wouldn’t be a problem, if Jefferson and himself had an even somewhat friendly relationship. Sucks that they don’t, but hey, Alexander will manage.

§

But, the walk/Madison pushing Alexander’s wheelchair home didn’t went peacefully, what a shocker. There was no violence, rest assured, but the hostility between himself and the taller Virginian man was thick in the air. Madison was visibly awkward, obviously uncertain as on which side should he be on, or even whether it was smart to speak at all.

“… higher taxes, primarily for the wealthy, and a larger government are necessary to address inequity or injustice in society, in other words, government should help the poor and needy using tax dollars from the rich,” Alexander finished his speech, and even though being slightly in front prevented him from seeing Thomas’ face, as the man walked alongside his friend, he could practically hear him rolling his eyes. Madison’s sigh confirmed it.

Thomas only opened his mouth, and Alexander already knew he’ll be spouting bullshit in matter of moments, “Lower taxes and a smaller government with limited power will improve the standard of living for all. We should support lower taxes and a smaller government. Lower taxes create more incentive for people to work, save, invest, and engage in entrepreneurial endeavors. Money is best spent by those who earn it, not the government,” he practically growled out his counter argument. Alex knew that this discussion will not come to an end anytime soon, so he braced himself.

“No, no, _no_ , I think we should support a large government to provide for the needs of the people and create equality. Taxes enable the government to create jobs and provide welfare programs for those in need. I don’t really know you, but it never ceases to amaze me how your ideals blind you to reality!” Alexander exclaimed, with more malevolence in his voice than needed. They weren’t full-on fighting just yet, but he supposes that _that_ will happen sooner or later, _so may as well make it sooner._

“Enough, please,” Madison cut Thomas off, who was about to oppose Alex again, “Hamilton, Thomas,” he looked at both of them, “We’re neighbors now, we have mutual friends, both of which contributes to the fact that we will inevitably be a part of each others’ lives. I know you obviously have different political views, but we can easily look over that.”

Both of them were silent, more than little surprised about Madison finally speaking up. The man was rather withdrawn in arguments, much like Burr, although the two are significantly different (Alex knows that even if Madison will not be the first one to stand up and speak his mind, he’d never flee from a debate or an argument, and even though his views _can_ directly oppose Alexander’s own, he can respect the man for that).

“Whatever,” Thomas said, and Alexander thought he was being a petulant baby again, or perhaps the teen rebellion hadn’t quite abandoned him. But he was wrong, “It’s not like this incessant twerp can counter my statements either way. He’s babbling in vain,” he shrugged.

“Oh, you crossed the line now, you beanpole-ass looking motherfucker,” Alexander hissed and twister around in the wheelchair, so that his torso was partially facing Thomas. Madison sighed deeply again, slowly regretting his life choice, but Thomas seemed to take the bait.

“How very eloquent of you, little hobbit,” Thomas seethed, “If you want to fight, I’ll give you that. Why don’t you come up here, eh, throw a couple of punches? God knows you could use a little nip/tuck,” he scoffed, “Stand up for yourself… _oh wait._ ”

“Fucking watch me scale you like a Mount fucking Everest, best believe I will,” he gripped the armrests in hopes of both stopping himself from falling out and resist the urge to actually punch him.

“Enough!” Madison shouted, “I’ve had enough. I can listen to you bicker, but I draw the line here. Alexander, I believe you can contain yourself, at least until we reach our building. Thomas, back off, please -”

“Oh what, you’re on his side now?” he scoffed scornfully.

“I am not on anybody’s side!” Madison exclaimed, “I am on the side of peace and harmony, at least right now. Lord knows I myself often find myself disagreeing with Hamilton, but I don’t feel a need to start unnecessary disputes every time we talk!” he looked down at Alex, “Same goes for you too. You haven’t changed at all, have you?”

Alexander was dumbfounded, not a single word escaping his mouth. He wasn’t often talked into submission, especially not by James Madison of all people, so he was at complete loss as to what to say.

It’s completely unnecessary to say that nobody really said anything until they arrived, but a lot of dirty looks were exchanged between Alex and Jefferson. If Madison noticed it, he didn’t say anything, and maybe it was for the best. It would only serve to cause more unnecessary tension.

§

Alexander woke up to an annoying British accent whispering in his ear. Or no… it was more like singing. Come to think of it, being turned towards the wall and lying on his side, he felt a warm palm on his hip. He blinked twice and stretched, met with a sight of George Frederick sitting on his bed with a sly grin on his face.

“Oh wonderful, the sleeping beauty is awake!” he declared with a mocking undertone, “Alert the press.”

“Nice to see your fugly mug first thing in the morning as well,” Alexander rubbed at his eyes.

“You just say that, I know you secretly love me,” George smirked and winked, however, he seemed playful enough for Alexander not to get a sudden urge to slap the smirk off his face.

“I wouldn’t know about that, _Georgie_ ,” Alexander was playing with fire at this point. The man hated that nickname, “Anyways, why are you pestering me this early in the morning? It’s Saturday, give me a brake,” he groaned.

“I woke you up because I want to eat pancakes, and you make the best pancakes, simple enough,” the price of the United Kingdom shrugged as if it was nothing.

Oh yeah, did Alexander mention that he was rooming with a person of royalty? Now, he doesn’t really care much about royal family, and while he does know the basics (king, queen, eldest child) he doesn’t really pay attention to the rest (since the pair has 8 kids). Maybe he read George’s name somewhere once upon a time, but it didn’t stood out to him much when he read it in the e-mail.

How he knows, you ask? Well, George left his laptop on in the living room on an occasion, while they were watching some soap opera. The man went to grab soda from the kitchen, and Alexander was curious, so he took a peek. His g-mail was open, and some of the mails seemed to come from ‘important British people’, and the king and queen themselves. When George saw him peeping, he announced: ‘Stop it right now or I will declare war on this country, I swear to God’, and Alexander looked at him funny. George sighed and shortly explained him that he doesn’t particularly like the lifestyle he lived as a kid, and that he had 2 older siblings, so either way, he wouldn’t inherit the throne, therefore he didn’t have a reason to stay. He didn’t like the exposure to the media he got all the time, and decided to move away, and live like a normal citizen.

A filthy rich normal citizen.

“Are you serious?” Alexander’s eyes widened in disbelief; he glanced at the clock. It was exactly 8 o’clock.

“Dead Sirius,” he grinned.

“Stop with the Harry Potter jokes, I swear,” he covered his face with his palm, “I don’t have time for this.”

“But Alexxxxx _pleaseeeeeee_ ,” George whined, climbing on top of Alex and laying on his chest, “I won’t leave until you agree,” he bit his lip devilishly.

“Fine, whatever,” Alexander agreed mainly because George was crushing him at this point, and he was fully woken up now, so he knows that even if he manages to convince the other man to leave, he won’t go back to sleep, “Just give me a minute to get ready, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“Splendid!” George called out and kissed Alexander’s nose. Alex took a deep breath when the man left the room, wondering what has he gotten himself into but nevertheless enjoying the warm, fuzzy feeling of having a new, trusty friend, since his other friends won’t even text him.

It’s been two weeks after his and John’s breakup. Alexander is semi-fine. He’s keeping it together, for the lack of better word. He’s talking a lot with Eliza, Martha and well, the other Schuylers, but somehow (he isn’t the least surprised) neither of them can replace Lafayette and Hercules, even though it seems that they’ve already replaced him.

It’s not like he has nobody to talk to, in the sense of not talking about the breakup but literally anything else. George can sometimes get annoying, but his childish and overall kind of protective personality make up for it. Alexander dares say that he is having a good time with him.

When he rolled over to the kitchen, having changed his PJ bottoms to sweats but still sporting his standard green pajama top, he greeted George once again.

“Oh, and Samuel will come over too,” George mentioned casually.

“Seabury? You fucking with me?” Alexander groaned, taking out pans and all other supplies for the pancakes.

“Nope,” George paused, “I _am_ fucking with Sam, though.”

“ _Ew, cooties,”_ Alexander jokingly mocked, opening a pack of butter.

§

Alexander wasn’t the least surprised that George and Seabury chased him out of the apartment so they could proceed fucking like rabbits. At first, Alex wasn’t willing to leave, but then George made a show of sliding his hand up Seabury’s tight to his crotch, lightly squeezed… it, and then Seabury moaned so loud Alex is sure could be heard through these paper-thin walls (of course, Seabury was just joining in on the fun. He could see the smirk on the ginger’s face, the bastard). He threw his hands up into the air and wheeled out of the apartment, making a show of shutting the door melodramatically.

He didn’t expect to crash into Thomas Jefferson on the hall, sending the man tumbling over his feet and fall onto the carpeted floor. Alexander exclaimed, “Ha!”

“Shut it, twerp,” Thomas muttered and got up. He visibly clenched his teeth, his jaw all tense as he drilled holes into Alexander with his eyes. Alex found it absolutely comical, “Anyhow,” Thomas continued, much to Alexander’s surprise, causing the immigrant to raise his eyebrows in confusion, “James said- _fuck_ ,” he murmured a cuss under his breath, just barely audible, and rubbed his forehead with his hand. He took a deep breath, “James said I should apologize to you for… well, you know, what I said yesterday,” pause, “but also like, all the other shit I said beforehand. It was shitty of me to be so hostile, and I’m sorry,” he looked pained just by uttering the words.

Alexander stopped glowering at him and thought about it a little. The apology was obviously something half-baked he pulled out of his ass, and the fact that James made him do it made sense. But for the sake of not wanting to argue any longer, he accepted this attempted apology.

“Okay,” Alexander nodded, his voice much calmer than he expected, “It’s fine. You were and ass, I was an ass myself, so yeah – sorry about that too,” he said, “I-is there anything else you wanted to say?” he stammered, not because he was nervous or sad or anything, but because he was having difficulties processing this much information at once.

Thomas nodded as well and made a beeline for the door.

Alexander doesn’t believe that this conflict among the two of them is over yet. On hiatus, maybe, as a result of exchanging apologies just now, but it is so far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow this is exactly 3k words do u know how satisfying i find that mm


	5. In Tempestate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lights out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas' hoodie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pS0kg6XS9WM (if anyone's interested, tbh it's not important to the chapter, it just made me picture him better)
> 
> I know this is short, but it's one of those filler chapters! Hah :')
> 
> Okay so, I have school in less than a week (next Monday, to be exact) and since I just started high school, and the one that I'll attend is known as the one of the most difficult (is that the word?) ones in my very, very small town, I don't know whether I'll be able to keep updating every day/every other day/ SO, this fic will be finished before Monday, because I hate to be the type of author that makes y'all wait (no shade, just personal opinion). 
> 
> B U T do know that this is in now way rushed; this was intended to be a short fic with no more than 25k words since the beginning, short and fluffy, with a little bit of angst just to spice things up.
> 
> Love,  
> Gecko.

In short, the peace didn’t last long. Not that Alexander was surprised whatsoever.

At first it was… almost fine. Madison looked like a proud father that just made peace between his children. They’d greet each other in the hallways, if not verbally, then with a small nod or a lame excuse of a wave.

But, the more Thomas came to the library, the more they argued. What they had before was ten times better than now.

The truce ceased on a rainy Friday, when Thomas was reading in the library, holding his head up with his hand. He’d occasionally glance at Alexander, who would avert his gaze the moment their eyes met. The tension was there, but they both were adamant on ignoring it.

Alexander meanwhile, was typing something up on his computer. They were alone, and it was quiet (well, Burr was there too, but he was cleaning around). It was quiet, too quiet. Something was bound to go wrong. Everything about the scenery was screaming ‘recipe for disaster’.

Alexander didn’t need to wait for a long time before his theory was proven correct. They lights flickered. This caused both of the men too look up, and then at one another. It must be the storm. Every once in a while, a thunder would strike. Just like it did right now. It didn’t take long for the light to completely go out.

“Fuck,” he heard Thomas murmur. Alexander let out a small sound akin to a growl, as his computer shut down as well, without him saving the last five pages of the document. He slammed his fist on the wooden desk, but nobody really paid attention to him. Burr suddenly appeared from the aisles, poking his head out and looking at Jefferson and then at Alex.

“The power went out,” he stated.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Alexander murmured angrily. Jefferson gave him the ‘are you done?’ look. Alexander replied maturely by glowering at him and sucking his tongue out.

“Is there an electrical box around here?” the Virginian asked.

Burr nodded, “There should be,” he looked at Alex expectantly, “In the back, right?” Alex confirmed by nodding. He isn’t sure if Burr could see him, mostly because it was dark as hell. The only light sources were Burr’s cell phone screen, and Jefferson’s cell phone flashlight because he’s pretentious like that. Not surprising, though.

Alexander wheeled away from the desk and followed Burr to the back rooms; he felt Jefferson shuffling behind them through the tight, dark space. Admittedly, the flashlight helped a lot, for it have out much more light than Burr’s screen, especially because Jefferson was for once smart and held it above his head, pointing forwards.

“Need help with anything, Burr?” Alexander offered, secretly hating the fact that Burr knew what to do and Alex didn’t, therefore being more useful than Alex.

“This takes finesse and focus,” the man glanced over his shoulders, fixing Alex and Jefferson both with his gaze, “Neither of which either of you has.”

§

Maybe ten minutes later, Burrs still didn’t figure out what to do. It was getting darker by the second, the clock reading 7:13 PM. Alexander isn’t worried that George will worry about him, since his shift technically ends in 20 minutes and he’s usually home by 7:40. However, he feels uneasy because of the storm. It’s not like he’s afraid or anything.

Or a little.

Maybe a little.

Some uncertainty came from his accident that took place eight years ago; the great hurricane that left him paralyzed. But he got over that fear with time. The main issue now is how he’s going to get home. He doesn’t want to spend the night in the same small space with two people who would literally throttle him if given the chance (although he did make peace with Burr a while ago; now the man just tolerates him). And even though he knows that Jefferson won’t really kill him and that he’s probably over-exaggerating, still, it’s unnerving.

He returned to the main room and made his way to the kids’ corner, where he used to read books to children. There was one of those cheap little lamps with some yogurt brand mascot on it, and it would give out very minimal light when pressed. It would do.

The storm that was brewing on the horizon only moments ago seemed to be at its peak, although Alex knew it isn’t about to calm down. Thick, grey clouds covered what little bit of pale light the sun graced them with, and although it was barely 8, it was almost pitch black.

Alexander turned on the little lamp and shimmied out of the wheelchair onto a beanbag. He fished his phone out of the pocket of his hoodie and saw that he only has about 10% battery left. He didn’t lose time, immediately texting George not to wait for him.

_**A. Ham [07:34pm]**  
i have to spent the night at the library because of the storm. worry not, im not alone. thought you should know._

_**His Majesty [07:35pm]**  
Alright. Anything else I should be aware off? _

_**A. Ham [07:36pm]**  
if u don’t find my body in the morning, do know that im with burr and jefferson_

_**His Majesty [07:38pm]** _ _  
Have fun!_

Even though Alexander couldn’t see him, he knew that George said the texted phrase with that over-exaggerated British accent and a sing song voice. He also texted Angelica and Eliza the same message, just so they don’t get worried. His heart cracked a little bit when his finger instinctively hovered above John’s name. He’s surprised that he didn’t delete the number yet.

He did it just now, with a determination that he only found in himself when debating.

He was beginning to sink into sleep, the thunder and rain his lullaby, when he heard voices that stirred him fully awake. He identified them to belong to Burr and Jefferson, obviously, who else? He could tell apart some words and phrases and decided to keep his eyes closed, just for a little while.

“… incessant… unwilling to listen to anybody… you know I can’t!” said Jefferson – or more accurately, whisper-shouted.

“Give him a chance… oh…” Burr continued.

“I am so confused… it’s not like I want to -” and then they walked into the area. Alexander didn’t end up hearing much of the conversation, especially with Jefferson cutting himself off. Alexander squinted one of his eyes open, but remained still. He doesn’t know how long has it been, but the two men retreated.

§

After a particularly loud thunder strike, Alexander was awake. He practically jumped up from the beanbag. He looked at his phone; no new messages and 3% battery power. It was 11:23 PM. He groaned and rubbed his face; he was covered in sweat and he felt yucky, but it’s not like he could hop in a shower. He wanted to get away from this area, because it felt lonely. He could hear Burr’s and Jefferson’s whispers, and he assumed they were at the reception. He rolled towards the wheelchair on his side, feeling vaguely like a pancake. Somebody must’ve moved it closer to the corner entrance at some point, for some ungodly reason. He grabbed the handles and pulled himself up. This time, there was a shelf behind it so there’s no way that it would roll away, right?

Wrong.

This time, luckily, he didn’t fall too hard or hurt himself, but something snapped. He busted the riggings, and with that, the whole footrest area split from the main frame. For fuck’s sake. He needed a new wheelchair now. Even if he managed to fix this one, it’s not unlikely that this would happen again.

What now?

He isn’t sure. He isn’t too pleased with the idea that he will have to have somebody carry him again, it happened already twice in past two weeks and it has taken a toll at his dignity (what was left of it, anyways). But there was seemingly no way out; it was either call for assistance or worm your way towards Burr and Jefferson. The second one seems even more scarring than the other so…

“Burr!” he hollered and hoped Burr would show up soon, so he didn’t need to endure the pain of calling again.

Luckily, the heavens had mercy on him, and the man showed up in a few seconds. Upon seeing Alexander on the floor next to a broken wheelchair, he arched an eyebrow. Alexander was aware that his current predicament might raise some questions.

“I feel,” he muttered helplessly, causing Burr to snort and cover his face, as if to attempt not to laugh (which he failed miserably).

“Go ahead, laugh at the crippled,” Alexander rolled his eyes.

“Thomas!” Burr called, much to Alexander’s horror, which must’ve been evident on his face as Burr explained, “I can’t carry you, I’m your height and unlike some, don’t really hit the gym.”

The southerner appeared in matter of moments, and Alexander expected him to laugh. But he didn’t. He looked at Burr with uncertainty, and then Burr gestured him to pick up Alex and bring him to where they originally were.

Alexander hated this concept. But it was either that or slithering around the floor like a snake with mental issues.

So, he put on his big boy pants and patiently waited for Jefferson to carry him bride-style.

He was wrong.

He got used to Jefferson’s big hands on his waist at his point, but he did not expect that Jefferson will hoist him up across his shoulder, with his legs dangling on Jefferson’s chest and his rear on full display. The position itself wouldn’t be called indecent by any means, had Jefferson only carried him to the desk like instructed. Alexander wiggled once or twice, to non-verbally protest being carried like a child, and then Jefferson smacked his ass. He froze, blood rushing to his cheeks and he felt himself burning from toe to head. Burr cackled next to them, and all Alex could do was bury his face in his hands, and refrained from looking at either of them even when he was put down.


	6. Getting High With The French

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy b-day tj

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jefferson is a cute, cuddly drunk.
> 
> surprise?
> 
> i think not
> 
> anyways
> 
> TW: mentions of alcohol and weed

Alexander is beyond happy when he sees George’s car parked in front of the library the next morning. The man helps him in the car, and transports the broken wheelchair into the trunk. He also offers to take Burr and Jefferson home, but they refuse the offer, since Jefferson came with his own vehicle and he’ll drop off Burr on his way. Which is good, because it means Alexander can get up to his apartment without any more unnecessary awkward encounters. He doesn’t know why is there so much tension, not necessarily of good kind, between the southerner and himself.

He spent the rest of his Saturday mostly in the apartment, casually cuddling with George on the couch since he couldn’t quite move. Seabury came by, and then they left to the bedroom and locked the door. Alexander hated the fact that he couldn’t move. Couple of minutes into “Modern Family”, Alexander heard a knock on the door. Well, this was frustrating.

“It’s open!” he called. He didn’t know if it was open; he hoped. So he can preserve what’s little bit of dis dignity left. The Lord almighty had mercy on his soul, as the door indeed opened. It was Madison, with a brand new wheelchair. Alexander’s mouth fell agape, “… Madison?”

“Alexander,” he stated, “Hi. May I come in?”

“Of course,” he sat up on the couch, following Madison with his gaze, “Pray tell, why did you buy me a couple hundred dollars worth wheelchair?” Alexander knew an expensive ride when he saw one.

“I didn’t, actually,” Madison opened his mouth to continue, but Alexander was quicker.

“What do you mean,” he laughed, “You just found an expensive wheelchair standing around and thought of me? Why, Mr. Madison, you sure know how to swoon a man.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Madison gritted his teeth, but then relaxed his jaw and said, his voice much softer, “Thomas did.”

“… As in Thomas Jefferson, the guy who lives with you next door and loathes my guts?” he chuckled, _“Sure.”_

“I don’t know the reason behind his motives,” Madison shrugged, “But he asked me to deliver it.”

“Of course he did,” Alexander scoffed, “any act of kindness could taint his Inexplicable Asshole™ rep.”

Madison sighed but didn’t comment, and only walked in, delivering the shiny new toy in front of Alexander’s feet. “D’you want help?”

Alexander was about to refuse, but he remembered how did that end up last time, so he just nodded. Madison got the wheelchair all the way to the couch and held it tightly, and Alexander was grateful Madison was just as small as him, so he didn’t need to lift him up.

With ease, he slipped into it. It was very comfortable, and he decided that he loved it immediately.

“Also,” Madison hesitated, “Um, yesterday was Thomas’ birthday, but we’re holding a party tonight at 10. You should come by.”

Alexander was taken aback, and only dumbly nodded, and then the smaller Virginian left his apartment. He didn’t like the fluttery warm feeling in his chest that lingered ever since Madison mentioned his roommate’s name, revealing that it was him who spent this much money on somebody like Alexander. Maybe he didn’t hate him after all.

§

Alexander spent a good portion of his day with Eliza, shopping for more clothes because everything she owned was becoming gradually more ill-fitting by the passing day. She was in her 7th month, so that was understandable.

He also called up Nick, talked a little about how his business is going. He downloaded some books from the internet, as he was lazy to get to the library today. It was weekend, and he didn’t have a shift then.

The book was only mildly interesting, about some dude in a fictional world. He wasn’t really a fan of fiction, mostly because it was highly unrealistic in certain aspects – not the whole ‘another world’ situation, that’s fine. But it gets annoying when everything falls into palace so easily, the problem solver for every other plot twist is magic.

His dislike for fiction seemed to intensify after finding out that Jefferson’s a fan.

What a wild coincidence.

§

In hindsight, Alexander should have thought about going to the party at all. Thomas wore a shocked expression on his face when he opened the door and saw Alexander, and he opened his mouth as if he was about to say anything, but he closed it back up. Like a fish, Alexander thought. But he didn’t get to laugh at his own joke, when Thomas finally managed, “Was the music too loud or…?”

“No, I-uh,” Alex felt embarrassment wash over him, and his cheeks becoming rosy, “Madison said that I should come. I didn’t want to bother you, so I’ll just leave -”

“ _Nonononono_ , I mean, please, do come in,” Thomas moved away so that Alexander could wheel past the threshold. Thomas seemed uncharacteristically docile tonight, and Alexander wonders if maybe he was already tipsy. It was only barely past 10, but maybe he wanted to get some buzz before it began, he thought.

The smell of weed, alcohol and sweat was in the air, and Alexander hated it. Oh how he longed for the gentle, chilly touch of the breeze caressing his skin- yup, that was enough waxing poetic. Alex looked around and – God bless – spotted Angelica, Martha and Madison chatting away in the corner of the room. He swallowed a lump in his throat and came over to them. Angelica smiled, so did Martha. Sally gave him a little wave and Madison nodded, as a way to acknowledge his presence.

“Alex,” Angelica started, her words slightly slurred, “What brings you here? I thought you weren’t a fan of TJ.”

“Well, it so happens that Madison here invited me. While usually I would greatly even consider coming, my apartment is… erm, my roommate has a guest,” he shrugged, “And likewise, I was bored.”

“I see. Well, did you grab something to drink?” Sally offered.

“No, actually, I don’t intend to get shitfaced tonight. I’ll probably leave early too. This is just a distraction for me.”

He heard laughs from the doorway, and a familiar, thick French accent. He barely turned his head around just so slightly, only to see three figures entering the room. Unmistakably, Lafayette, Mulligan and Laurens.

Somehow, the odor of weed intensified. He wonders why. (He doesn’t. He knows that Hercules and Laf always have an ‘emergency stash’)

He panicked. It wasn’t like he was on bad terms with Lafayette and Mulligan, but if they’re forced to talk, it will turn out awkward. Nobody seemed to pick up on this, so it was okay. And he was in the somewhat secluded area of the apartment. Maybe nobody will move and Madison will stay in his place, making Alexander barely visible when looking towards him from the doorway. He had no such luck, as with time, all of them scattered and found new people to hang out with, or just went to get another hit, or another chug. He felt the anxiety seeping back in, and in a rush, crashed into Thomas Jefferson.

Jefferson, however, laughed drunkenly and slurred something akin to, “Yoooo Ham,” and Alexander cringed at him. Jefferson was, at this point, halfway draped across Alex’s lap, his bottom part sluggish on the floor and his face in a concerning vicinity of Alex’s crotch. He kept giggling into the denim of his jeans, and Alexander hated the fact that it didn’t make him disgusted. Uncomfortable, yes – a little, but nothing beyond that. Even though the two of them would constantly use any given opportunity to snark at each other and diss each other’s political beliefs (that didn’t differ all that much; Jefferson just had a few conservative stances), maybe Alex would be willing to look over it, weren’t Jefferson such a jackass when they first met. Again, he doesn’t know what’s with the hostility.

However, he’ll give credit to Drunk Jefferson™, who seemed to be very calm, and very… what’s the word?

Juvenile? He acted like a man child. A huge-ass, fluffy-haired, kind-of-cute-right-now man child.

“’Xander,” he tried again, not coherent whatsoever, but A+ for the effort, “That’s- I got you this whee’chair.”

“You did, yes,” Alexander cleared his throat, “Thank you very much for that. You didn’t have to.”

“But I did,” interrupted Jefferson, “Y… you can’t move otherwise, right?”

Alex swallowed, “… that is correct,” he wondered where Jefferson was going with this. The man was completely relaxed against him now, blinking up at Alex with those ridiculously big doe-eyes.

“An’ if you can’t move, you couldn’t work at the… the library,” he hiccuped, “and I like seeing you there.”

What even…? “I beg your pardon?”

“- except you always seem so angry with me,” he continued, completely disregarding Alex’s question, “You always yell when you see me. And then I have to yell back becaus-”, _hiccup_ , “-because I gotta defend myself, y’know?”

“I see,” Alexander doesn’t understand what any of this means. But he can see over Jefferson’s shoulder the infamous trio of Laf, Mulligan and Laurens coming closer. Not towards him, but Alex will find himself definitely in their field of vision at some point. He can’t move because Jefferson seems to adamant on slumping against him.

John and him make an eye contact, and he panics again. He feels his chest ache under the freckled man’s scowl and cold gaze, so he improvises. He lightly puts his head in Jefferson’s hair and experimentally pets the man, who inches into his touch. This is such a stupid fucking idea.

In hindsight, he shouldn’t have done what he’s about to do.

“Jefferson- Jefferson,” he whispered, to get the man’s attention, “My ex, John, is here. I need you to -”

“Your ex?” he frowned.

“Yes. Listen to me, okay?” a nod from Jefferson, “I need you to kiss me right now. Just so he can see.”

Jefferson seems to be able to wrap his mind around Alexander’s words and wordlessly leans forwards, connecting his lips with Alexander’s in a chaste kiss; there was no tongue, no nibbling, of course, because that would cross so many lines (not that this didn’t count; but he feels better this way). His lips move so slightly, and Alex lays a trembling hand on Jefferson’s cheek. He can feel John’s eyes on him, and when his own brown ones flicker up for just a second, he can see the man looking away and tugging on Lafayette’s sleeve.

Jefferson separated them, and his expression morphed into a face of real terror, as if he just saw a ghost. His brows were raised up, pupils almost covering the ring of brown around them, his mouth parted just slightly. He touched his lips.

“I- this was a mistake,” he whispered.

It was Alexander’s turn to frown, “What do you mean? I’m sorry, really, I didn’t want you to make you feel pressured -” he began, his tone apologetic, but Jefferson continued rambling, although his gaze was cast downwards to the floor.

He looked more and more as if he was talking to himself.

“ _I’m not- I can’t, I’m not gay, I’m not gay, I can’t be,”_ he hugged himself with his hands, his legs drawn up to his chest, whispering rapidly, leaving Alexander looking at him helplessly, _“This was wrong, I shouldn’t have done it, I shouldn’t like him, I don’t like him, I- I- I-”_

“Thomas,” Alex said softly, poking at his shoulders, pretending he didn’t just hear what the other man said, “I think you should rest. Go to sleep, end the party,” it was about midnight.

“Sleep. Bed. Yes,” he confirmed, and leaned against the wheelchair. Alexander called for Madison, and in matter of about 10 minutes, everybody was out of this apartment, Thomas in the bedroom, and Alex and Madison in the kitchen. Madison offered to make some tea for Alexander, and Alex felt as if it was because he felt bad for him, given the fact that the little immigrant had no opportunity to drink tonight, even though Alex didn’t have any intention to do so.

“So,” Madison started, “What’s with you and Thomas?”

“What do you mean?” he chuckled.

“I saw you kiss him tonight,” Madison said nonchalantly, “weren’t you?”

“We, uh,” Alex nodded, “We did. Once. It was because my ex fiance was here, and I asked Jefferson to help me out, since he was practically staring me down. You know, make them jealous and all that shenanigans,” he chuckled with a bitter undertone.

Madison hummed.

“I should get going,” Alex said and put the empty mug down on the counter, and let Madison walk him out.


	7. Lo Dijo De Labios Para Fuera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tjeffs is very fucking extra but what else is new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys i start school on monday  
> i am not prepared 
> 
> i am really trying to get this book done before then, because i just know i wont have time to finish it with all the schoolwork that awaits me

Alexander is woken up the next day by incessant, loud knocking – or more accurately – banging on his door. He rubs his eyes with the heel of his palms and realizes that his back hurts a lot, as well as his neck; but seeing that he literally has a half of him in a half-sitting position in the wheelchair, and the other half slumped across the couch’s armrest, he isn’t surprised. He suppresses a groan and wheels over to the door. He doesn’t expect Lafayette to be the one that showed up at… 9:23 AM.

“Laf -?” he says, but there is an undertone of a question in his voice, bewilderment spelled out across his features, “What brings you here?” he asks the Frenchman, who seems suddenly hesitant. Alexander raises his eyebrows again to prompt him to start talking.

“This is going to sound stupid but… do you maybe know where’s John? He disappeared after the party yesterday, and when Hercules and I woke up, he wasn’t home. We called, but his phone is dead, and we’ve been waiting for hours now -”

“Slow down, jeez,” Alexander muttered; it was way too early for this, “What do you mean, why would I know where John is? Of course I don’t. I haven’t seen him in a month, with yesterday being an exception…”

“Wait,” Lafayette frowned, “You were at Thomas’ party?”

Alexander furrowed his brows as well, “Yeah. Why?”

“I thought you didn’t like each other,” he shrugged, the frown still there but softer.

“I thought so too. Turns out, I had to get out for a short while,” he explained.

“Maybe John saw you, and then ran away or something,” Lafayette murmured, his voice too quiet for him to be talking to Alexander. It felt more as if he was voicing his thoughts to himself. But Alexander replied nonetheless.

“What?” he scoffed, “John has literally zero right to be angry or hurt over…” he was about to say ‘the kiss’, but figured he shouldn’t open that particular can of worms quite yet, “Over seeing me, I guess.”

“I know. But still. He hasn’t been feeling good lately -”

Alexander roared with laughter, “ _He_ wasn’t feeling good? Boy oh boy, do I have some news for you!” he continued mocking, “Poor baby Jacky and his _fewwings_ , oh show shall he deal with that.”

“You know what I meant, petit lion,” Lafayette sighed, “I know you probably don’t care, but John is my friend and I’m worried. I simply came to ask you a question, I didn’t come here to fight,” Lafayette decided with a more stern tone.

“Of course he’s your friend,” Alex said quietly, “You’ve been standing _only_ by _his_ side ever since the breakup,” and to be fair, he did wait for Lafayette’s response. But one never came. Lafayette walked backwards and then took off towards the elevator.

§

Alexander was writing on his laptop, his fingers moving basically at the speed of light, when he heard some noise coming from the hall, even through his closed doors. After only a little time, Alexander realized that somebody was blasting Phantom of the Opera. Which, sure, usually it would be fine by him, he’s a huge theater nerd, but something angered him about this. Some person had the audacity to interrupt his train of thought while he was in a midst of a twitter fight. He’ll retaliate the only way he knows.

By trying to drown out the noise with Les Misérables. There can only be one dominant Broadway production on this floor.

But to no avail. This person seemed adamant on listening to Phantom as loud as possible, and have obviously taken Alexander’s comeback as a challenge. Alexander pushed himself away from the desk and towards the speakers. He fished his phone out of the pocket, on which an audio bootleg of Les Mis was playing already, connected via Bluetooth on a JLB speaker. But it wasn’t loud enough, obviously. Once he did what he must, he damn well near went deaf. The speakers, apparently Frederick’s Christmas gift, were rarely ever used, collecting dust because George didn’t want to sell them. His excuse was something along the lines of ‘it’s not nice yada yada’. It looks like the speaker set has finally served its purpose, now that Phantom was only but a distant echo.

But, as Alexander finds himself to be a good person and moreover, a good neighbor, he turned the speakers off only after couple of seconds of ‘One Day More’. He waited for perhaps, somebody to show up at their door because of disturbing the peace, but that didn’t happen. For once the luck was on his side, and he spent the rest of the afternoon _demolishing_ conservative asses on twitter.

One account in particular stood out, though; the username of this person was rather edgy and so 2012, but that doesn’t surprise Alexander, since he heard their opinions. “@xx_mac_n_france_xx13”, God damn.

However, this person does have a good eye for photography. One would think that somebody with 10k followers would change their username… but no. Their profile picture was a black-and-white closeup of some sunflowers. However, the little respect Alexander had for this person vanished the moment he clicked on their profile and saw a huge pixely Pepe as the cover photo.

He was in the middle of part 10 of his argument (stupid 140 characters limit), when he got a message. He opened his DM-s and sure enough, the person contacting him was @xx_mac_n_france_xx, or “TJ”, the name on their profile. The message read:

_**@xx_mac_n_france_xx:** drop it, hamilton. the subject of the argument isn’t even important. youre being petty. _

_**@a.ham:** who tf r u and y do you know my name_

_**@xx_mac_n_france_xx:** youre denser than i thought. this is thomas jefferson…_

_**@a.ham:** _ _oh….why r u stalkin me on twitter and spouting your shitty fuckin opinions. It like ur daring me to fight you._

_**@xx_mac_n_france_xx:**_ _give me a brake, you think that literally everybody with different opinions wants to fight u. news flash, NOPE. i wasnt stalking you, frist of all. i thought u knew that it was me._ _s_ _econd of all, “spouting your shitty fucking opinions” is a_ _very moot point_

_**@a.ham:** _ _I s2g can u stop making valid points jfc_

Alexander was feeling anxious during this whole exchange. Of course it was him, how could’ve he missed it? Maybe Thomas was right, maybe he was dense.

But beyond all, it was awkward. With everything that Thomas said yesterday, about how he actually likes Alexander is making this more difficult (not _like_ like, just like, but then came the whole gay denial thing, and Alex doesn’t really know what to think of that).

So he retaliated publicly by making a childish statement that he’ll inevitably delete later.

_**lex  
@a.ham** _

_ur so fuckin extra jeff @xx_mac_n_france_xx with ur 2010 memes an shit and x’s in ur name who the fuck puts x’s in their name, fucking seabury thats who_

_**George III.  
@fancy_britt ** _

_don’t play with fire, alexander. i’ll declare a war on this entire country if you keep dragging Sam :) @a.ham_

_**TJ  
@xx_mac_n_france_xx** _

_Wow @a.ham, where did all that eloquence disappear? Maybe it went away along with your common sense._

Oh, Alexander has had it enough.

§

Alexander didn’t have to storm the hallway for too long before he found himself in front of Jefferson’s apartment. He knocked onto the door. They opened in a matter of moments.

“Oh, for fuck’s…Alexander, what the fuck?” Jefferson groaned as he looked down at him, “I was messing with you, Jesus…”

While initially Alex came here because of the twitter fight, bringing that up seemed too immature right now. However, he did know something they could talk about – and what they _should_ talk about, really.

“I-I’m not here because of that,” Alexander lied. Jefferson arched his eyebrow, Alex continued, “I came to talk about what happened yesterday.”

Jefferson winced, “I uh…”

“You remember, right?”

“Kind of?”

§

Thomas went full into panic mode. He didn’t think Hamilton will actually face him about that. He could lie, of course, tell that he didn’t remember anything he said after the kiss. It could spare them both some dignity, so why not?

“What exactly?” Hamilton kept pressing, now rolling into the apartment and bumping into Thomas’ legs with the wheels when he didn’t move. Thomas closed the door with a sigh and looked at Hamilton.

“We kissed because of… John?” Jefferson feigned confusion, rubbing his chin lightly, “Something about him being your ex,” he wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers, hoping that Hamilton wasn’t that good at seeing through his lies.

“Nothing else?”

“I think not,” he shrugged, “Not like it matters. I’m not into dudes. Consider the kiss my peace offering,” he smirked and winked.

§

The spent the afternoon drinking coffee and overall bantering, and fairly quickly, the awkwardness has vanished. Since Madison was out, there was no hurry for Alexander to leave, and Jefferson seemed happy to have company, and even was hospitable enough to order pizza. Then came the big pinapple-on-pizza-yes-or-no debate. Jefferson of course, loved the Hawaiian pizza, like the pretentious asshole he was. He threatened Alexander that he’ll just order this one type, and Alex hissed that he wouldn’t dare, to which Jefferson replied with “try me” and a wink. Alexander accused him of being an enormous prick.

“An _enormous prick_ , Hamilton?” Jefferson said in an unusually flirty fashion, “You flatter me so,” he fluttered his eyelashes and placed his hand on his chest.

Alexander found himself being suddenly very flustered.

§

If there was one thing for certain Alexander knew he loved, it was pestering the living hell out of Jefferson whenever the man made an appearance in the library.

Things like _accidentally_ spilling coffee over Jefferson’s notes as he _accidentally_ bumps into his table on a few occasions while he _just so happens_ to be passing by the dead end of the library. To his defense, Thomas does this shit to him all the time as well. Once he actually printed out the screenshot of a memo Alex put on twitter because all his points were too long for 140 characters, and then promptly stuffed it into a paper-shredder in front of the library on a busy Saturday in front of his boss.

John was still missing. Lafayette and Mulligan were worried sick. Alex was too; he knew John since college, and even if he broke his heart, Alex was not cold-blooded as he presents himself to be. He called him, but his phone was dead. This made exactly zero sense; John was a person that would call you three times to say that they arrived to some town after a one hour trip.

His thoughts were interrupted by Thomas sauntering through the door and looming above him, smirking at Alex who refused to give him the satisfaction of having to look up at him (although he does it all the time. It’s a new sort of a competition between them).

“Jefferson,” he hummed, acknowledging his presence.

“ _Alexander,”_ Jefferson purred. Alexander knew this was purely to grab his attention, “what are you up to, angel mine?”

Alexander blushed.

Jefferson called everybody these frankly ridiculous southern nicknames that for him maybe didn’t have a romantic meaning; sweetheart, darling, sweet pea, doll. Nothing unusual.

But he never once heard the man say ‘angel mine’, or call anyone – especially not Alexander – that. He was ready to surrender, but was interrupted by loud noises coming from the entrance, and they seemed to also grab Jefferson’s attention.

“Gilbert? Mulligan?” Thomas frowned, “What’s up?”

“Teddy is missing,” Lafayette said, “Burr’s having a panic attack, Theo is out of her mind.”

“What?” Thomas frowned and pushed himself away from the table and said with a low growl, “Let’s go. Maybe this is related to John’s disappearance as well.”

“Wait!” Alex called, “What about me?”

Thomas turned around and his shoulders relaxed, “Hamilton… y’can’t…”

“I can, and I will,” Alexander said with determination, “Piggy-back carry me,” after a look of uncertainty flashed across Jefferson’s face, he elaborated, “You’ve carried me before.”

“I carried you bridal-style,” Jefferson blinked, “That’s different.”

“Since when do you care?” Alexander challenged.

“I don’ think that’s a good idea,” Hercules interjected.

Jefferson sighed and shrugged, Hamilton was persistent, “I’ll hold on tight. Please.”

Next thing you know, the four of them are marching down busy New York streets, Alexander being on the phone duty. He reminded Burr to let the police know that his daughter had disappeared, and that he might as well file a missing person’s report on John too. Jefferson had to hold Alexander’s tights up, because the little man couldn't really have a grip on Jefferson’s body because… well, his legs don’t work. That’s rather obvious.

“By the way,” Jefferson whispered, turning his face slightly towards Alexander’s, “Les Misérables is nothing compared to Phantom.” Alex snorted.

Meanwhile Lafayette and Hercules kept exchanging guilty looks, as if Alexander couldn't see them.

  



	8. Ut Iam Osculari Et Sponsae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh oh angst haha not sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldnt sleep so i wrote 3k worth of a chapter
> 
> i was supposed to update tomorrow but i guess nobody can always get what they want

When John woke up, he was cold. Wherever he was, it was positively freezing. He slowly fluttered his eyes open and rubbed them with the heel of his palm, until his vision regained focus; he was in a dark alleyway, against a brick wall. His shirt was still on, not intact but presentable, although kind of damp. His pants were nowhere to be seen, and his boxers were on but only just below the knees. He didn’t panic, surprisingly enough. Even though he may should have. His phone was long gone, as well as his wallet, and he could tell he was nowhere near his block. Lafayette and Hercules must be worried sick, a thought crossed his mind. He tried to get himself up on his feet at least, using his hands to support himself on the wall behind him, which was still uncomfortably hard against his back. When he bent over to pull up the said boxers, he felt a familiar ache in his hips and upper part of his legs. Well, it wasn’t a surprise at this point how did he get himself in this position, but the question was how will he go back home.

When his shirt rode up, he saw purple and yellow bruises painting a pretty picture on his tights, hips, and also around his neck. He was in one hell of a situation, and without a single clue as to what to do to get out of it. When he straightened his shirt back down, a piece of paper feel out of a pretty shallow pocket. On it was a number, scribbled hurriedly, but clear enough to read. He spotted a payphone on his right, right around the corner. He prayed that nobody would see him as he scrambled towards it, barefoot and breathless. He punched in the number and waited impatiently as it rung. Whoever left the number behind them left it with a purpose, right?

“H-hello?” a voice answered, gravelly and sounding as if he just woke the man up.

“This is John Laurens,” he said, not knowing what to expect; will the person react to the name, or did he made a mistake by contacting this guy?

“Laurens? Doesn’t ring a bell,” he said, “How do you know my number?”

“I, uh,” it doesn’t hurt to say it to a stranger, right, “I just woke up in some shady dead-end street with your number tucked into the pocket of my shirt. I’ve been robbed of all my belongings, and have nobody else to call. I don’t even know where I am!”

“Oh,” he said, “Oh, yes, I remember you. You were a good fuck, you know that? Anyways,” John sighed with relief, “My name’s Charles Lee. Yeah, I remember you, though I wouldn’t know anythin about leaving you in a ‘shady dead-end street’. I do know that we met in a gay club called ‘Devil’s Den’.”

“Okay,” John nodded, even if the man couldn’t see him; it was more of a reassurance for himself. He swallowed, “Is there a way for you to help me?”

“I… I don’t know,” Charles said, “I don’t know where you are. Can you read off of a street sign or something?”

“I suppose… stay on the line, please? I have no money left,” Charles hummed in agreement and John left the phone to hang down on its cord while he wandered around a bit. Once he saw a blue plate and was finally aware of where he was, he came back to the payphone. He told the street name to Charles, who promised to call 911 and tell them to pick him up.

He was somewhere in Bronx.

‘Devil’s Den’ was in the middle of Manhattan.

How did that even happen?

§

“aLEXANDER!” Lafayette busted the door of his apartment, running and screaming. Alexander groaned audibly, because this is the third time since yesterday that this happened (Hercules and Laf are shortly staying in Thomas’ apartment, until the two missing members of their crew aren’t found.)

“What?” Alex snapped, putting the book in his hands down on the coffee table, scowling at the panting Frenchman, doubled over in his doorway. It’s not like he was running for a long time; Thomas was in the same hallway as Alex.

“They- they found John,” he said and straightened his posture.

“That’s cool,” Alexander said rather coldly.

“Aren’t you happy?” Laf tilted his head.

“I’m relieved,” Alex corrected, “Anything else?”

“He was found somewhere in Bronx in nothing but a shirt and boxers. He’s a little bruised up, but in my understanding, it wasn’t because he was beat up,” Laf shrugged, “some Charles Lee guy called 911 to get him after John found Charles’ number. I don’t know the full story yet.”

“Charles Lee? Are you joking?” Alex questioned.

“Not in the slightest, petit lion,” Laf quirked his eyebrow, “Why would you say that?”

“Lee is the guy to whom I sold my old apartment to,” the smaller man explained, and Laf nodded.

“ _The_ apartment?”

“Yes.”

“I see,” Lafayette said, his voice a little softer yet he was still looking at Alexander with those big eyes, and something about this seemed almost sympathetic, almost pitiful. Alex didn’t like pity, “Are you okay, mon cher?”

“It’s been over a month, Lafayette,” Alex sighed, “I’m fine.”

“I’m sure John didn’t want to -”

“ _Shut.”_

“Listen to me – he didn’t want to hurt you -”

“ _No.”_

“Alexander -”

“OUT!” he screeched and Lafayette did as he wast old, backing out of the apartment and closed the door. The noise must’ve alerted George that something wasn’t right, since the blond haired man was standing at the doorway to his bedroom

“Alexander?” he said quietly, making his way towards the couch. Alexander sniffed, and took off his reading glasses to quickly rub at his eyes, and then put them back on. George sat next to him, but didn’t really say much. Alex sighed and leaned into George, while the man wrapped an arm around his shoulders. This was a pity party, Alexander realized, which was exactly what he didn’t want. But it’s cool, chill, whatever, right? Yeah.

It’s been a month.

§

He forgot the most about his morning when he got into the library. Burr was in today, much to Alexander’s surprise, but he was on the line with his family or the police most of the time. The atmosphere was pretty depressive as well, since most of them who worked at the library were as close as the paint on the car door. Thomas was talking with James Madison, who was substituting for Burr. He volunteered to do that, which was pretty nice of him, because he didn’t _need_ to do that. Burr even insisted, but while being pretty emotionally broken, he didn’t sound very convincing. James just laid a hand on his shoulder and took him to the break room, where he made tea. James always made the best tea, since he was sick half the time, and therefore got loads of practice.

Thomas came by as well, but he looked worn out as well. His neatly trimmed beard turned into a scruff and there was the faintest trace of bags under his eyes. Alex remember that he liked Teddy a lot, and this was probably difficult for him – would you believe it? Alex never really pegged Thomas to be a person that likes kids so much, but evidently, there’s a lot of things he didn’t knew about the man that he’d never guessed to be true before.

He was moping around the library for the most part, and Alex has had enough. He began scaring customers, for God’s sake. Alexander made some coffee for himself and for Thomas, and then rolled over to him, to the farthest reading table in the library, all the way in the back of seemingly endless rows of bookshelves. He didn’t notice him at first, Alex noted, absently flipping pages of some large book, with his head laid out on the table.

“Hey, asshole,” Alexander greeted but with a smile on his face and no venom behind his words. Thomas looked up and shortly grinned, eyeing Alexander and then the mugs, one of which Alex laid on the table just now. When Thomas didn’t react, Alex nudged it towards him until it hit the book. Only then did the man focus on it, and eventually brought it to his lips and took a sip.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“So, what gives?” Alex carefully broached the subject, “You look kind of off today.”

“It’s just… everything that’s been going on for the past few days. Stresses me out, is all,” he shrugged, taking another sip.

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, “Burr’s been freaking out a lot, too. You should have seen him yesterday. I told him not to come in today, and that the boss surely wouldn’t mind but…” Alexander made a vague gesture in his air with the hand he held the mug with, shrugging as he did. Burr was still here, you could hear his voice from the break room if you listened carefully enough.

Thomas looked hesitant for a moment before he spoke, “… and then there’s another thing,” he began, fully grabbing Alexander’s attention now, “I don’t know how to say this. Fuck,” he cussed silently to himself, “I don’t even tell this shit to James,” Alex glanced at the man behind the counter, “I uh… seem to have developed a crush,” Thomas looked away.

“Oh!” Alexander exclaimed, “That’s wonderful. Who is she?”

“See, that’s the problem,” he fiddled the corner of a page between his fingers, “It’s not a _she_.”

“Oh. _Oh_ ,” Alex nodded, “I see. Do you… think it’s a serious type of crush or just a fling?” he said carefully, deliberately slowly, while he sipped the tea.

Thomas laughed bitterly, “If I thought it was a fling, I wouldn’t drag myself around the library all day,” he sighed, “Why am I even telling you this?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you trust me?”

He cracked a grin, “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” Alex rolled his eyes but was happy that Thomas was at least somewhat in a good mood again. Maybe he could prompt him to talk about the crush a little more. He’d sure like to know who’s the lucky guy that has the great Thomas Jefferson’s heart. Thomas continued talking, “The thing is, I had an eye for a select few guys from my college, and even one in high school. But I didn’t give it too much thought? I don’t know. It’s scary.”

“It’s fine not knowing, you know,” Alex smiled briefly, “I didn’t know for a while, but I went with the flow,” he hesitated, “some people don’t want labels, and that’s fine too.”

“You don’t understand,” Thomas groaned, “I need a label, I’ve always needed a label. Labels keep me grounded, labels are safe. Besides,” he chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood or change the subject; Alex decided that both works, “What are the chances of everybody in a group being gay. You have to have a token straight. It would be comical at this point.”

“Well, we do all tend to flock together, like penguins, in this cold, heteronormative world,” Alexander giggled, “And besides, Burr is the token straight, so…” he shrugged.

Alexander hummed around the rim of the mug and decided not to get into this any further, since Thomas seems to treat it like an insanely private subject. He opted onto patting Thomas’ shoulders and commented something about the book he was still flicking the pages of, which inevitably clashed with Thomas’ of it (which he knew) and that sparked an argument. It was more banter, really, a playful form of their past ferocious screaming matches.

§

Cops found something regarding Teddy. Burr was crying in Alexander’s lap as Alex casually kept sipping his tea. Theodosia was in Martha’s embrace, with Eliza stroking her head. Supposedly, Teddy was kidnapped by some kind of a gang NYPD already had to deal with in the past with similar crimes. Their base was located and units were on their way to get the babies. They’re not certain what exactly the motive behind stealing babies was (Teddy wasn’t the only one) but their assumption is that they would have sought ransom. They estimate that the babies will be back at the station in 10 hours.

§

John was cold and alone. He originally planned on staying in the alleyway, not to move, let the 911 crew pick him up. But it’s been hours, and nobody came. He doesn’t know why. He hopes Charles did actually call them.

He was slouched behind a container, hugging himself, when he heard footsteps. He immediately thought it was the police that came to get him, and so he flew out of his makeshift shelter. But lo and behold, it was not the police. Not even close. These dudes, the five of them, looked as if they just killed somebody; they were dirty, their clothes were ripped, and they all held a bat in their hands. They were scowling at him. One of them, John supposes the Top Dog, jerked his head and they all started walking towards him. John, looking pathetic in his shirt and boxers, backed away.

“What do you want?” he said, trying to sound confident but his voice cracked awkwardly in the middle of the sentence. One of them snickered.

“Reynolds,” the shortest, Asian man said. The Top Dog turned around towards him, “Your whore says the cops are on you.”

“Don’ care,” he smirked, “I first want to catch this lost, little thing.”

John ran.

§

About 30 minutes later, Alex was informed that John had arrived (in an ambulance. Apparently he mad some mild injuries), and now he was in Thomas’ apartment, the only reason being is that most of them were there anyways. Lafayette, Hercules, James, Thomas, Angelica, Eliza, Martha – even Burr. Only Alex was not sure about going. Who could blame him?

Not like John wanted him there, anyways. He left for a reason, didn’t he?

But, he was getting lonely and bored. He’s been alone for the better part of his Sunday now. George was visiting some friends in New Jersey, and he was pretty much only company Alexander ever had as of late. But he supposes this John thing might’ve been good; at least Lafayette is talking to him again. Hercules… not so much.

He gathered all the courage required to knock on the door of the apartment number 789, and James Madison opened the door. He didn’t seem surprised to see him, although he looked wary. Maybe he was familiar with what happened between them; Alexander wouldn’t know.

They were in the living room. Ironically, John was in a similar wheelchair. He had his arm in a sling, though there was no cast, so he supposes it wasn’t broken. He was bruised up, much like expected, but he was smiling, talking to Burr at the moment. When Alexander entered his field of vision, most of them went silent and John looked at him.

However, the smile on his face only broadened and he jumped out of the wheelchair, crying, “Alex!” Alexander was not to happy about this, and he awkwardly hugged John back when the man landed onto him, “I thought I’ll never see you again,” he sobbed into his shoulder and then moved his head back to look at Alexander’s. There were dry trails of tears on his face, his cheeks were slightly rosy, making his freckles stand out.

He said, “Yes, Alex, yes, I’ll marry you!” and then kissed him.


	9. The Beginning Of The Fall Of The Deangate Mob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is arguably the worst chapter I have ever written. ever. not just for this work, but overall. which i am sorry for. but, i didn't have time today, and you've waited for a long enough time so i really wanted to get one out today.
> 
> because of school, three facultative subjects i'm taking and extracurricular activities, i have very little time in a day as it is, and i still have to lotsa study. the updates will no longer be this frequent, and probably only on friday/saturday/sunday. again, sorry about that.
> 
> i promise the next chapter will be better.
> 
> p.s. john will be fine

“Yes, Alex, yes, I’ll marry you!”

Alexander’s mouth fell agape as John’s lips disconnected from his own. Some people cheered, but he couldn’t tell who it was. He heard Lafayette hollering in French, Hercules clapping in the corner of his eye. But Alexander wasn’t smiling, nor was he laughing.

Nobody of them knew what really happened, Alex realized.

“W-What?” he stuttered, trying to shove John away with minimal effort, but the freckles man gripped his forearms.

“I realized how much I missed you, baby,” he took Alexander’s hand in his own and stroked lightly, smiling idly, “I made a mistake, a huge fucking mistake. I love you so much, I want to get married now!”

Alex heard a faint sound of a door slamming shut, but his mind was flooded with the rivers of emotion, when John’s confession destroyed the damns that struggled to hold them at bay for a month. He couldn’t make the words leave his mouth, while his mind screamed _No! No! No!_

“John I… this is not how it works,” Alex whispered, jerking his hands away from John and wrestling the man off his lap. John stumbled on his feet but didn’t fall. His arms dropped lamely at his sides as he looked at him, lost.

“Wha’?”

“This is not how this works!” Alex said, a little louder, “You can’t smash my heart into smithereens, break everything I held dear and then decide that none of that matters all of a sudden!”

“I didn’t -”

“Oh, buy you did,” Alex growled, pointing an accusatory finger at him and baring his teeth, “But I got over you. I was doing just fine, you know, up until now. You can’t just change your mind. World doesn’t revolve around you, buddy. You’re selfish, John.”

He was silent, mostly. His breath was coming out ragged. He didn’t nod, didn’t really say anything. Alex looked around; Lafayette’s eyebrows were raised in question, Hercules was just looking in disbelief. Martha and Eliza’s expressions were both unreadable, and Madison was nowhere in sight.

“I need to… I need to go,” said Alexander and before anybody could stop him, he was out of Thomas’ apartment, silently whimpering on his bed and praying that George wouldn’t hear him. He doesn’t need to be coddles right now, he just needs to be alone.

Alone is good, alone is safe. Nobody can hurt you and nobody can see you cry.

§

Alexander, surprisingly, got over the recent John fiasco surprisingly quickly. Apparently all it took was a good crying session and he was back on track. He had some duties in the library, but now that Teddy was back, Burr’s been helpful too. Madison sometimes came by when his shift was over, supposedly this new girl caught his eye, or so the rumors say. Nobody knows her name, but everybody knows her. She’s is about 5’9, has long, wavy hair and is often times seen wearing a red dress and a matching lipstick. She only started coming into the library recently, maybe a week ago. She had a pattern. She’d come by at 5 in the afternoon, grab a random book without looking twice at the title, took the farthest table in the library, one that Thomas often occupied – and like clockwork, when 9 rolled around, she was gone. She didn’t talk to anybody, she never borrowed a book.

Which leads Alexander to the next point – Thomas doesn’t come in anymore. He’d asked James why was that, but James was very vague. He said that he went back to coming in in the morning, because that was James’ shift, but Alexander knew that everything that left Madison’s mouth at that moment was horseshit.

The realization that he missed Thomas wasn’t very sudden. At first he just felt that something was missing, but he couldn’t place it. He didn’t expect it, either. He couldn’t call him, since he didn’t have his number, and Madison didn’t seem like a legible source at this point. Knowing him, he’d probably give Alex one of those joke numbers that when you call them, something like ‘JOHN CENA’ screams into your ear and probably makes you go deaf.

Come to think of it, Madison does seem just a little more hostile towards him of late.

Missing Thomas was a strange sensation. It was so much more than wanting to see a friend, but he didn’t know how to actually call it. Longing was maybe a good words, Alex thinks, but then wrinkles his nose. ‘Longing’ sounds sappy as fuck, which he is not.

No. Definitely not.

He didn’t have anybody to talk to at work. He didn’t have anybody to make tea for and sip it while discussing rumors, politics, economy, et cetera. He didn’t have anybody that he could insult jokingly and vice versa. The library grew very quiet without the tall southerner.

§

He didn’t expect Laf nor Herc to come by today, and if he was surprised by the two of them, he couldn’t believe that Eliza, Angelica, Peggy, Martha and Sally both came with them. He knew that they had an ulterior motive, they had to. This was too… too _good_.

They weren’t subtle at all, but at least they were trying in the beginning. It was now blatantly obvious that they were up to something, and his theory was confirmed when Angelica sauntered over to the reception desk and casually propped her head on one of her hands and began casually chatting. Which wouldn’t be inconspicuous at all, if Alexander didn’t know better. He knew that Angelica hated small talk.

“And then I said, ‘John, sweetie, you can’t boss around people that are of higher rank than yourself and be surprised when they refuse to listen to you -” she was looking about her husband, of course.

“Angelica, Angie, Angel,” Alexander sighed, “What is this?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, feigning innocence but she was obviously caught in a lie.

“You’re obviously up to no good over here,” he gestured at the bunch in the various parts of the library, “Spill.”

Angelica sighed dramatically, “Fine. We thought you might want to spend time with us a little because you’ve obviously been stressed,” she fiddled with her fingers, “So we were planning on a movie night… at Madison’s, because – one, you can easily get there, and two, he has the biggest apartment out of all of us, excluding Eliza and Martha, but they have a lot of baby stuff going on.”

“I see,” Alexander nodded and thought a little, “I’ll consider,” he said, although the offer did seem tempting.

“Your shift is over in 15, you better consider it soon,” she said and left on that note.

§

On the bright side, he might finally see Thomas and find out why has he been avoiding Alexander. Actually, Alex doesn’t know for sure if he’s actually been avoiding him, but it is the only logical explanation, although Alex still doesn’t know a reason behind it.

When he arrived to Madison’s house, Angelica, Peggy, Lafayette, Hercules and that mystery library girl were there already. And of course, Madison. Angelica and Hercules were trying to agree on a movie to watch, Peggy and Lafayette were mostly snuggled up together on the couch, and the girl was in the kitchen with Madison. Instead of immediately joining his friends, he ventured over to the said kitchen to see if Madison has anything good to drink.

She was sitting on one of the bar-stools, propped up on her elbows and was mostly silently looking at James, who was rummaging through the cabinets.

“Hey,” Alex said and smiled politely.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

“What’s your name? I’ve seen you around,” he tried to make things less awkward by talking to her.

“I’m Maria. Maria Rey- Lewis,” she grinned awkwardly and shook his hand.

“Alexander Hamilton,” he said and smiled back. Madison came out of the kitchen and denied him any type of alcohol, which okay, not fair at all. He bets it was Angelica’s idea.

Nevertheless, he made his way to where most of his friend were, and from the looks of it, they decided to watch The Hobbit for the umpteenth time, but whatever. Probably all of them religiously watch it every month at least once. At least Alex does.

He wiggled out of the wheelchair to plop on the couch next to Peggy, and wrapped one of the blankets around himself. He felt Angelica tip her head back to rest it on her knees and sighed contently.

§

“Mm, Johnny boy, what brings you back here?” John swallowed, looking up at the man, James Reynolds, “Are you going to take up my offer?”

“I – actually – yes,” John nodded, hugging himself. He felt the presence of the those other guys from Reynolds’ gang, but somehow they didn’t intimidate him like they did the other day. The fact that he wiped the floor with them may have had something to do with it.

“Well then,” Reynolds smirked, “Welcome to the Deansgate Mob.”

§

Alexander became bored after the second movie. He excused himself to the toilet, but really only locked himself into the bathroom and played Angry Birds for ten minutes, only coming out when Madison came to check up on him, which was more than a little embarrassing.

He settled on the couch across Peggy’s and Laf’s laps, making them both scratch his back. Which was enjoyable, the sensation keeping him occupied enough not to be all that bored. His mind wandered, however, and he found himself not being able to stop thinking about Thomas, where is he and if something happened.

Maybe he was with somebody, a thought came to mind. Alexander knew that Martha’s sister, Sally, was his ex-girlfriend, Thomas told him that once. Maybe they got back together, who knows.

Or maybe he was with his guy crush. Immediately that made much more sense, and the thought of it made Alexander’s throat tighten. He probably is, come to think of it. Maybe he’s sleeping over at their place.

Once he saw Madison getting up from the other couch he shared with Maria, Alexander took his chance. He was fast enough getting into the chair, with Peggy helping him. He practically cornered the man in the kitchen.

“Hey, Jimmy James, what’s shakin’?” he winked, amused while watching Madison’s annoyed expression.

“What do you need, Hamilton?”

“Where’s Thomas?”

He saw Madison’s jaw clench, “I don’t -”

“Miss me with that bullshit, Maddie. I know you know where he is, and it’s annoying that you won’t tell me,” Alexander huffed.

The other man sighed, “Fine. But you didn’t hear this from me…” a pause, “Thomas left for Monticello few days ago. No, I don’t know why, before you ask. He was hesitant to even tell me he was going at all,” Madison admitted.

“Huh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos to everyone that actually read this.


	10. Redemption Attendue Depuis Longtemps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> john redeems himself, chaos ensues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oKAY whoa finally a long chapter?? what??? and finally a chapter that I actually like???? w H A T??
> 
> SPECIAL THANKS TO @Veryconfuzzled FOR BEING A BETA FOR THIS,,, much love m'dude

Alexander was feeling particularly anxious on this particular day, for no apparent reason at all. He woke up with a feeling of pressure around his chest and throat area, but it was 5 p.m now, and he couldn’t seem to get rid of it. He really did try everything; he drank some tea Madison made, he read books to the toddlers, he let Frederick make brunch (This was usually Alexander’s job, he thinks George might actually set the kitchen on fire at some point), and he even zoned out a couple of times while checking out the customers.

  


Lafayette supposedly knew where John was, but he won’t say anything. Hercules and him have been awfully quiet about it, just sneaking glances at the immigrant, whispering when they thought he wasn’t looking. It made him feel uneasy. 

Eliza also came by today, informing him that she’s due in two weeks. He was surprised, saying that that seemed quite early, but she just shrugged. Martha was glowing with pride all the while, and Alex couldn’t help the smile that made its way on his lips until they left, and then the day went back to being dull.

He didn’t go straight home; he went to the park. He crossed the bridge, the one where John and him first kissed, without thinking twice about it. It’s nice, the feeling that your emotional well-being doesn’t depend on somebody else.

In hindsight, maybe he was wrong. Maybe he just didn’t realize  _just_ whom it depended on.

He didn’t give it too much thought.

He was in the middle of reading an online blog when his train of thought was interrupted by Madison, who just came in. Apparently he still had to regularly go to the doctor’s, but this time it was Seabury who was switched into the morning shift. Madison was on his phone, a bag hoisted across his shoulders as he sauntered over to their desk and took a seat by ungracefully flopping down into the swivel chair.

“Yeah… say hi to ma. Okay. Yeah, bye,” he said, finishing the call. Alexander glanced at him. Madison seemed uncharacteristically cheerful today, which was suspicious.

“Who was that?” Alexander asked, hoping to sound casual enough not to appear suspicious, even though he was dying for an answer.

Madison took a moment to respond, “It was Thomas.” He began typing something up on his computer.

“Oh,” Alexander said, “How is he?”

“He’s doing alright. His family’s having some kind of a gathering, so he’s happy to see his cousins and so on.”

“I see,” Alexander swallowed. He wanted to say ‘Did he say anything about me?’ but stopped himself, not wanting to sound too desperate or too nosy. I mean if he did, he reasoned to himself, Madison surely would have told him already. Maybe Thomas was busy, or was having a good time, likewise forgetting about his enemy-turned-friend librarian.

He sulked at the thought, frowning.

He didn’t expect George to come by, but the prince did. He immediately walked over to Alexander. He was wearing a suit, something out of ordinary for the man.

“Little Ham,” he said in a sing-song voice. Alexander eyed him. Usually he’d hiss, telling George not to call him that, but he didn’t really care at this point, “I came to tell you that I’ll be away for three days. Business trip and all. I’m going to Ireland, and will probably be visiting the family.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow, “Okay, what does that have to do with me?”

“Well, I just wanted you to know. So you can prepare or whatever,” he blinked, and with his baby blue eyes and lips twitching in a smile, he added, “I hope you won’t miss me too terribly. I don’t know how you’ll manage to stay alive without me. You’ll probably overdose on caffeine within, what,” he glanced at his wrist watch, “Three hours after my departure?”

“You can eat my crippled ass, Frederick,” Alexander scoffed and looked up, “But okay. Thanks for the heads up. You’re leaving today, or tomorrow?”

“Today, around 5.”

“How did you manage to book a flight that early?” Alexander frowned in confusion.

George sighed, “I have a feeling you’re forgetting who you’re friends with, sometimes,” 

Alexander hummed, knowing what George meant but not wanting to admit that he let it slip. George left after a while, and soon, only Madison, him, and Burr were left in the library. It was unusually quiet today, the library not buzzing with people as it usually would on a Wednesday. Theodosia came by as well, neither of Teddy’s parents willing to leave her alone for too long. Which was reasonable, with the kidnap and all. Luckily that was resolved pretty quickly but from the looks of it, the drama wasn’t over yet.

The apartment was awfully quiet when Alexander came home, but that was probably to be expected. He was quick to slip into his sleeping sweater, an old white thing with a thin blue rim at the bottom of it, the cuffs and the neck opening. Getting into the bed was surprisingly easy, but falling asleep proved difficult. He was twisting and turning for the most part, stopping only for a short moment every once in a while to look out at the full moon, silver in the sky. 

He suddenly got an idea.

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


§

  


If John was asked, he’d say that he’s been climbing the power chain relatively quickly. It’s been maybe a week, and he’s already pretty high up on the gang hierarchy. Reynolds likes him, he isn’t sure why. Maybe it’s because of his chest-to-chest combats skills, or maybe he just has a good personality. Probably the former. It’s not unexpected, really, he spent a good part of his childhood and early adulthood training in kickbox. Sure, he’s a little rusty, but it was enough to wipe the floor with some of the ‘tough guys’ around here.

He’s walking on his way to their camp, or whatever you want to call it, tired from a particularly intense session of cage ‘wrestling’. They’ve pretty much occupied this old church and turned it into a fighting arena. John is still at loss why – sure, to train the troops, but as far as he’s concerned, they don’t have any enemies or possible threats. Except for cops, obviously. But they too stay away from the Mob, so…

He’s made some connections around here as well. Charles Lee, the guy he had a one-night-stand with, is apparently also a member, so at least he had somebody familiar to talk to in the beginning. Then Benedict Arnold, seemingly the cute and nerdy type at first. John laughs to himself. Turns out, the guy’s a master with a sniper, he can take out a squirrel on a tree from the roof of a building. Or at least, that’s what the rumors say. Sybil Ludington, a hacker. One of the leading minds of their former operation (which also failed), had hacked into security cameras and baby cameras, which allowed them to kidnap five babies, one of which also happened to be Theodosia Burr; which John didn’t quite know how to feel about.

He could keep going for days, since the Mob was a ‘home’ for a lot of criminal masterminds. It was nothing like what he’d seen before he even knew who they were. Nobody here was only the stereotypical muscle without brains, which was.. unexpected.

However not to John’s surprise, Reynolds was also a pimp. It’s not really something John approves of, but it’s not like he has a say in it, either. If he tries to confront him about it, John doesn’t doubt that his head would end up on a stick, put somewhere on public display, while his beheaded body is dumped into Hudson river. So he keeps his mouth shut.

He’s met some of these girls. Not met as in, is friends with them, but has seen them around more than once and knows some of their names. Supposedly one of them is Reynolds’ wife. John doesn’t know whether she was his wife before she was turned into a prostitute, or if Reynolds simply married a hooker. Both of those situations seemed unlikely, but it is what it is. Being the gang leader’s wife also meant that she had more liberty than others less lucky than her. She could roam around the city, could socialize outside the gang. Although if she tried to escape, she would probably face terrible consequences.

Surprisingly, John doesn’t know her name. Mary, May, something-or-other. She mostly avoids everyone from the Mob under all cost, high rank or not. Rape is not uncommon around here.

John took the cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it on the floor, stomping on it to put it out. It’s also a habit he’s developed, even though he hates it. He can hear footsteps behind him, accompanied by chatter in Spanish and a very distinct cologne. Nicholas Cruger. A senior member, works in a hair salon, and comes from the Caribbean. Hangs out mostly with other seniors. Reynolds likes him. He also seems to be the one of the rare people who don’t look like they want to kill you with their looks.

“Señor Laurens, ¿cómo estás?” Nicholas hollered, swinging an arm across John’s shoulders. John chuckled, shaking his head fondly.

“Estoy bien, Nick. What’s good?” he asked.

“Ah,” Nick hummed, “Same old, same old. How are you getting along with everyone?”

“I know like, two people,” John admitted, “But I’m doin’ alright.”

“I must say you’re adapting better than most newbies I’ve seen. They tend to…” he hesitated, “Not last too long. Be lucky that James here seems to sympathize you, otherwise…”

“Are you suggesting that I’d be dead?” John said, all too casually for his own liking.

“Precisely. Anyways, I’ll see you around, kid,” Nick said and left, long with the other man he was just talking to. John didn’t really know him, but knew that his name was Henry Knox. He was one of the rare people that, like he said before, didn’t look as if they had homicidal tendencies.

As John took a left turn around the corner, he bumped into a girl. She had caramel skin and dark hair, and one part of it that was previously covering her left eye moved, uncovering a purple bruise around it.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” John stuttered out, kneeling down to help her up. She flinched away from his touch at first, but then accepted his hand as he pulled her back on her feet. She smiled forcibly. She was obviously feeling awkward.

“Are you alright?” he said, scratching at the nape of his neck.

She nodded, “Yes, I – I’m okay,” She was wearing camouflage sweatpants and a dark grey hoodie with a white skull symbol in the upper left corner. Under it said ‘MOB’ in capital letters, and everybody in Bronx (if not the whole New York) knew what it meant. Her mascara and lipstick were both smeared, and she looked suspiciously as if she was crying, “I just need to go -”

“Woah, hold on,” John stepped in front of her as she attempted to step around him, “What are you up to?” It’s not that John was exceptionally worried about her well-being, it was his own. If one of the Reynolds’ whores, as he liked to call them, escaped, or worse, went to the cops, if John was the last one to have seen her, he’d be in so much trouble.

“N-nothing. Just let me go,” she cried, trying to push past him again, but John was taller by a good bit. He grabbed her by the upper arms and held her still. Much to his surprise, she trashed around, trying to escape from his grip. She was beginning to drag attention. At this point, John was done with her nonsense. He harshly pinned her on the wall and instinctively pulled a knife out of his pocket, pressing it against her throat. She whimpered, not getting the hint, cutting herself on it. A single drop of blood trickled out of the long, thin cut, and that was what seemed to make her fall silent. John felt her body stiffen, and she held her breathe, eyes fixed on his own.

“The less noise you make, the better,” he said in a low whisper.

She gasped, “If you do anything, Reynolds will -”

“Reynolds will nothing,” John answered, “Do I look straight to you? The only straight I am, is a straight up badass. Now, what I meant was – you keep silent, and I’ll let you go. Make sure you don’t get into any trouble, or else Reynolds will want both of our heads.”

She nodded frantically as John slowly moved away, withdrawing his knife back into the case, which he put into his pocket. Even if he didn’t crowd her with his body anymore, she stayed in place, only relaxing a little bit.

“John Laurens,” he said.

“Maria Reynolds,” she nodded, checking him out once, her expression unreadable, “You’re one of the new guys?”

“I am. You’re the hooker wife?” he scoffed, saying the two words in the same judgy tone she said ‘new guys’. Fight fire with fire, he supposes.

She seemingly realized what he had going with her, and had half a mind to roll her eyes, instead wrapping her arms subconsciously around herself, “I’ll be on my way now. See you around, I guess,” she said and he could swear she whispered, just before she left, “Or not.”

John took a moment to look at her direction before making his way as far as possible from that corner. Luckily, he didn’t seen any of Reynolds’ cronies around. He took a deep breath and kept making his way towards their main building.

§

Alexander was known for making reckless decisions, but maybe he’s overdone himself this time. He already had a suitcase packed, and he was about to make some calls. His phone buzzed with a text message.

_**Royal Ass [8:02pm]** _ _  
I’ve landed._

_**A. Ham [8:03pm]** _ _  
nice. tell mommy and daddy your murrican friend said hi_

He closed the messages app and opened his contacts, selecting ‘Washing machine’ and dialing. After a few seconds only, his father answered.

“President George Washington speaking,” he said.

“Hi, my dude,” Alex said in an uncharacteristically cheerful tone.

“Alexander,” he could hear the smile in George’s voice, “What do you need, son?”

“I was just calling to let you know,” he hesitated, “I’m going to take a short… erm, vacation of sorts?” he hoped he didn’t sound too vague.

“Okay?” Washington said, “Mind elaborating?”

“I’ll be visiting Virginia for a week, something like that.”

“Come again?”

“I’m going to be visiting a friend for a little while.”

“Well, isn’t this very sudden,” Washington stated.

“Yeah, I didn’t even know about it until today, to be honest.”

“Okay, son. Just be careful.”

“Yep.”

§

John knew something was off the moment Charles Lee and Thomas Conway barged into the bar he was in and dragged him out. John did try to protest in the beginning, but one of them slapped him across the face, which ultimately resulted in John shutting up.

Reynolds was on a couch, a blondie between his spread legs, when John was brought into the apartment. The room could make you nauseous in the matter of minutes, the scent of it thick with the foul smell of alcohol, sweat and weed.

He was forced to his knees by a strong push on his shoulders, and he felt somebody tying his wrists behind his back. Nobody said anything for a good while, and maybe ten, twenty minutes later, the screech of the front door could be heard through the room again. There was a very feminine yelp, and he felt somebody being pushed to their knees too. He recognized the girl immediately. He’d recognize her anywhere. It was Maria Reynolds.

Finally, he heard James Reynolds beginning to talk.

“Well, well. I didn’t know we had two traitors in our midst,” he began and paused, “I’m feeling particularly nice today, so here’s some advice. You have a single chance to explain yourself and convince me exactly why I shouldn’t behead you and then send your heads to your mothers in neat little packages.”

Both of them went silent.

“Cat got your tongue?” Reynolds snickered.

John was about to say something, but suddenly he felt a sharp movement to his left, then a wave of heat and screams. All he could gather was that Maria, while not having been tied down by ropes, kicked a barrel in where there was a fire. Half the room was now in flames, thanks to the alcohol. She pulled him up and they ran for the door, escaping just in time before a support beam collapsed, and thus, blocking the exit.

They made their way down the corridor and couple of stairways, both very sweaty, and panting by the time they reached the streets.

“The fuck was that?” John shouted, but then her palm was across his mouth.

“Shut the hell up if you know what’s good for you, you fucking moron!” Maria hissed, dragging him away from the burning building, behind a van, where they crouched.

They didn’t say a thing for a while, looking at each other and the area around them. For a while, the only thing they heard was their own breathing, until a car rolled around the corner. John saw Lee behind the wheel, he didn’t need a double take to confirm that it was him. From the looks of it, Maria saw him too. John swallowed. There was somebody else in the car as well, they were all scanning around. Even if it was dark, if the car kept nearing to them, if they came just a little closer, the street light would perfectly illuminate them, and their shadows would be seen under the van. They’re dead people walking, right now.

Unless…

John reached for the gun in his trousers, not looking at Maria but being able to feel her eyes on the side of his skull. His motions were slow and measured. He didn’t have experience shooting, and he definitely didn’t shoot anyone in his life yet. His job was quite the contrary, being a nurse and saving lives rather than taking them.

He was surprised too, when he was handed a deadly weapon so early into his Mob membership. He used the van hood to support his hands and the gun itself, not wanting to risk missing due to shaky hands. He pulled the trigger. He missed Lee, but apparently, it was his lucky day because the bullet landed on the man riding shotgun. He vaguely recognized him as John André, Alexander Hamilton’s infamous ex. He wondered whether Alexander had a John Fetish, but decided that this was so not important right now. Charles Lee practically flew out of the car, his own gun pointing around them. John quickly hid himself behind the van again, glancing at Maria who nodded encouragingly. He crawled towards the other end of the van and took a shot. He missed, and inevitably drew Lee’s attention, who fired in his direction but missed John by a hair.

The fire was opened, and it was a matter of question when a bullet would hit either of them. Unexpectedly, Maria snatched the gun out of John’s hands and ran out of their cover, taking out Lee and two other men without too much trouble.

Until somebody fired a bullet into her hip. She doubled over onto the ground, and John had to risk it, running out to her aid and finishing off the last one of them with the said gun. He felt a sharp pain in his lower leg, and that turned out to be the Asian dude from before, throwing a knife at him in his last moments. It didn’t make a too deep of a wound, but who knows where that knife has been. He hopes it won’t get infected, as he picks up Maria and lays her out onto the hood of the wan. He takes off his flannel button up and wraps it around her waist to stop the bleeding best to his ability. When he confirmed she was okay – or okay, as okay as she could be – he picked her up, and ran into the night.

§

Alexander didn’t know what to expect from the frantic knocking on his door at 3 a.m., but it certainly wasn’t a bleeding John Laurens – or at least, if he wasn’t bleeding, there sure was a lot of blood on his clothes, face, limbs – and that girl from the library he saw every so often, half-passed out on his arms.

“Alex- Hamilton, fuck,” John breathed, “Don’t gawk, help!” he hissed, and Alexander immediately complied, letting John in and watching him drop the girl onto his couch.

“What the fuck?” Alexander hissed.

“I’ll explain later. Bring me first aid,” John commanded, and Alex knew better than to argue. He made a short trip to his bathroom and brought out what John had asked. The man began working on stripping the girl and tending to her wound. She looked pale, and didn’t look as if she was breathing at all.

 


	11. "Non Homo", pourquoi êtes-vous confronté à vous-même?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am backkkkkk with another one 
> 
>  
> 
> :)))

Alexander stared at John from the back of the room, as the man worked on Maria’s wounds. He still wouldn’t say anything, which, _fine_ – as if Alexander cared – but it would be nice knowing who would be paying for the dry cleaning of his couch, because that much blood wouldn’t go out easily. He could see the droplets of sweat forming on John’s forehead. He almost wanted to say something, or ask a question, but he quickly decided against it.

 

At some point, he heard John exhale loudly, and Alexander let his gaze travel to the duo. Maria was still passed-out, but from the looks of it, the bleeding had stopped. John, who was previously kneeling on the couch, was now sitting back on his heels, leaned against the coffee table, his hand on his forehead, wiping the sweat away with the sleeve of his shirt. The freckled man glanced behind himself, at Alexander.

 

“Thanks for… y’know, lettin’ me in,” he said, panting.

 

Alexander nodded and muttered, “’s alright. I would’ve done it for anybody.”

 

“I know… still,” John insisted.

 

Alexander rolled his eyes, not caring at this point whether John could see it or not., “Hey… listen,” John swallowed, “I just wanted to say that I’m -”

 

“Save it,” Alexander sighed.

 

“Please, Alex -”

 

“Please don’t call me that.”

 

“I messed up, I know -”

 

“Wow, _you know?_ How nice. Can you stop that now? Isn’t Maria more important than your petty excuses?” he groaned, gesturing at the girl on the couch, who was by now breathing more apparently, her chest rising up and down slowly, breaths coming out ragged.

 

John frowned, “How do you know her name?”

 

Alexander arched an eyebrow, as if that was the most important thing about this whole fiasco of a situation, “I _know_ her, what does that have to do with anything right now?”

 

John has gotten up to his feet slowly, a scared look in his eyes, “Alex- Hamilton, that’s James Reynolds’ wife,” he stuttered out.

 

Alex scoffed, “So? That name means nothing to me,”

 

“James Reynolds is a gang leader. Deansgate Mob’s leader, to be exact. The baddest guys in the entire New York,” he explained.

 

“How do you know that?” Alex let his walls drop for a moment, curious all of a sudden.

 

“I was…  part of it.”

 

“What the fresh fuck, John?” Alexander deadpanned. John scratched the back of his head, uncertain.

 

“Well, who do you think shot Maria? Why do you think I was running with a half-dead body from Bronx to this apartment at ass o’clock in the night?”

“I can’t,” Alexander rubbed his forehead, “This is too much. Why did you even join a gang in the first place? Did you shoot somebody? John, you could’ve _died_.”

 

John scoffed, “As if you’d care.”

 

Alexander frowned, “Cut that shit, you fucking idiot,” he face-palmed, “Are you really gonna argue who cares about whom right now? No? ‘s what I thought. Anyways, John, what the fuck?”

 

“I’ve done an impulsive thing or two, alright?” John exclaimed.

 

“How is joining a gang _impulsive_? Kicking an annoying person in the shin is _impulsive_ , joining a gang is _irrational_!”

 

“Okay, maybe.”

 

 _“Maybe!”_ Alexander mocked.

 

**

 

Alexander never thought that there would be six people in his apartment at 4 in the morning, one of which was possibly on the brink of death, and the other being covered in blood that was coincidentally not his own. But there he was, with Maria, completely still on his couch, Lafayette cleaning up John in the bathroom, James Madison kneeling beside the couch, fingers threading gently through her curly locks. Angelica was whispering about something with Hercules in the kitchen. This whole situation was a mess and a half.

 

“Maybe we should call an ambulance,” Alexander suggested when everybody gathered back in the living room.

 

John was first to shake his head, “We can’t.”

 

“Why?” Angelica inquired, “It’s not like we can leave her to bleed out here.”

 

“We can’t because they’ll call the police as well,” John tried to elaborate, “And then I’m screwed.”

 

“Why? You haven’t done anything wrong,” said Angelica, “… have you?”

 

“I -”

 

“Please don’t tell me you’ve shot somebody.”

 

“I’ve shot somebody.”

 

**

 

Turns out that the person who was shot was Charles Lee, coincidentally the person that dragged John into this mess, and then helped him out of it. And then back in. It’s not like anybody would’ve missed him, John persisted, since apparently the guy had no close family. Which, if Alexander’s was asked, was not, in any universe,  a good excuse to shoot somebody. Later he revealed that Lee was the same guy to whom he sold their former apartment to, and John proceeded to ask if it was alright if he moved back in there. Alexander didn’t mind, really, so he just gave him the spare key. At about 9 in the morning, everybody scattered, and Madison unsurprisingly offered to take Maria to his apartment.

 

Alexander’s flight to Virginia wasn’t going to happen when he planned it to, and a week passed by until he got another chance. A week was a good opportunity to think about what has his life come to in the last two months, but things look like they’ve started to clear up a little, which was nice.

 

His plane had just landed.

 

**

 

Alexander usually wasn’t prone to crushes. He always had lots of work, a lot on his mind, and very little time to deal with that kind of nuisance. Because who needs a warm, fluttery feeling in their chest whenever they think about a certain person, or dealing with rosy cheeks half the time, praying that the other wouldn’t notice? Daydreaming just makes you slack at work, and really, nobody needs these things. Unless your crush is reciprocated, but then, what’s the point, honestly?

 

Besides, we all know how his last crush ended up.

 

He was on the doorstep of the said crush, hoping he had the right address – it must be, since there weren’t a lot of big houses called Monticello around the place. There was a car in the driveway, which could really be anybody’s, since Alexander hasn’t seen Thomas’ car yet. The curtains were mostly pulled together on the front side of the house. He sighed when he saw three steps leading up to the door, and no ramp for his wheelchair. Well, this would be one hell of a quest.

 

First, he drove up to them and threw his suitcase up on the porch. Then, he proceeded to strap himself securely on the seat (did he mention that the new fancy wheelchair Thomas got him had that? Insane). He tilted himself backwards and grabbed the fence on the side of it firmly with both hands. Again, doing pull-ups in the gym did him some good, because he could relatively easily get up on the first stair (come to think of it, he should start visiting the gym again sometimes. He hasn’t been there for way too long). One step conquered, two more to go. He pulled again, and this time he almost fell backwards because his wheel decided to get a will of his own and twist; but he managed to stay up alright. Another pull, another step. He was close. He took a moment to breathe, rest his hands, before the final one. This took him solid ten minutes, but he was up, and that was what mattered. He grabbed his suitcase and rung the bell. Luckily, Alex heard footsteps.

 

He was surprised when Sally Hemmings, of all people, opened the door. She looked down at him, surprised but happy to see him, from the looks of it. “Alex!” she greeted him and shortly hugged him, “What brings you to Monticello?”

 

“I- I came to see Thomas, actually,” he responded, “I hope that’s alright?”

 

“Of course it is!” she exclaimed, “I’ve heard a lot about you from him, I’d say he’d enjoy your company,” she smiled and let him inside through the fancy, white, double-winged door.

 

If he thought that Thomas’ apartment in New York was nice, Monticello definitely took him by surprise. Nothing could measure to this, Alexander thought, as he rolled through the parlor. He followed Sally as she took a left turn to what he presumed was the living room. And sure enough, he saw Thomas sitting on the couch, with a little boy in his lap. The TV was on, and from the looks of it, Sesame Street was on. The boy didn’t look to be older than maybe 2 years; his complexion was darker than Thomas’ own, and more so matching Sally’s. He had freckles, too. He had short hair without any curls, but unlike Sally, his eyes were dark brown. He wore a striped green shirt and overalls, a pair of circular, golden-rimmed glasses on his face. He looked preoccupied with playing with a teddy-bear, and the only one who seemed to be watching the Sesame Street was Thomas.

“Tommy,” Sally called, “We have visitors.”

  
Thomas sighed and threw his head back, albeit not enough to see who the visitor in question was, “We literally just came back from Montpelier, what do they want now?”

 

“It’s none of your family, really,” Sally said and this seemed to intrigue Thomas enough to turn his head around, so that Alexander was finally in his field of vision.

 

“Oh,” Thomas said intelligently, “Hamilton?”

 

“In the flesh,” Alexander cheerfully tapped on each armrest with his palms. Thomas looked surprised enough, but not really disappointed. He smiled shortly, asking him, “What are you doing down here?”

 

“The library has gotten rather mundane without you, so I thought – why not fly out to the other end of the US to pester you, and find some good company for a change,” he grinned.

 

Thomas smirked, “What, you wanna say that I’m good company? Or worse yet, that you _missed_ me?” he mockingly puckered his lips, “No homo, though,” he winked.

 

Alexander felt a sting in his chest upon Thomas’ words, and proceeded to pretend nothing happened. Which it didn’t of course. “I wouldn’t say that,” Alexander smirked back, “I just noticed the absence of a cocky piece of purple velvet,” and then Thomas proceeded to flip him off.

 

“Not in front of the child, Thomas!” Sally hissed and Thomas gave her a playful eye-roll.

 

“As if he knows what it means,” he countered.

 

“He might not, but he might copy the action and get in trouble!”

 

“Where? In pre-school? Please, Sally, this is the definition of an overbearing, white, suburban mom called Debrah. Remember when you said you would never become one?” he teased.

 

“Whatever!” she threw her hands in the air in mock-annoyance, “Ruin him!” and she stormed out of the room.

 

“Goddamn,” Alexander murmured, making his way towards the couch. Thomas agreed with a nod; Alexander couldn’t help but ask, “Who’s the kid?”

 

“Eston.”

 

“And who are the parents?”

 

“Uh, me and Sally?” Thomas winced.

 

“You have a kid?”

 

“I do have a kid.”

 

Alexander scoffed, “Elaborate?”

 

“Well, me and Sally had a thing. One thing led to another, voila, I’m in college and she’s pregnant in her senior year. Being in the south didn’t really mean she cold abort it, even in the early stages of pregnancy. We broke it up at some point, not exactly sure why, but I know we’ve fought plenty at that period. Then one day I randomly get a call that I became a father, and I could only assume that it was Sally’s kid.”

 

“So, who’s taking care of him now?”

 

“He lives with Sally, but I do get to see him a lot,” he shrugged, absently playing with Eston’s hair.

 

“That’s nice.”

 

“Hella,” says Thomas, and Alex snorts at the comment.

 

**

His day in Monticello had gone really well; Thomas got to show him around and Eston insisted to ride in Alexander’s wheelchair, which proved impossible without somebody pushing him. Alexander gladly watched him from the couch, and then Eston and Sally left home. Alexander and Thomas finally got to discuss politics, had a fight, broke a plate, and then made up by watching a movie until the late hours of night.

 

Alexander woke up in his bed, not remembering that Thomas had showed him the guestroom, nor remembering that he got there by himself. Which must’ve meant Thomas had carried him upstairs, which _meant_ that he was practically stuck there, without his wheelchair, and that the only option available right now was to call for him as loud as he could.

 


	12. Love is in the air, you can smell it -- Alexander's not by himself...I'll let him tell it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh sorrry about being a day late!!!
> 
> Tis is a filler chapter k,,,,,p short

“Thooooomas!” Alexander called for the umpteenth time. He was confident that his voice could be heard throughout the entirety of Monticello, but Thomas decided to be an asshole again, leaving him to wait here. Finally, after some more time, and by the time Alexander’s throat began to feel sore, the door opened, and there he was, smirking again, as he leaned against the wall.

“Already calling my name, hm, Alexander?” his name rolled off his tongue so smoothly, and Alexander didn’t like the chills it gave him.

“Nice one, buddy,” he sneered at him, crossing his arms across his chest.

“You’re cute when you pout,” Thomas winked. Not fair at all, in Alexander’s opinion, “Now, what may I do for you, angel mine?”

“Get me out of the bed, for starters,” he made grabby-hands at him. Thomas rolled his eyes and strode over to the bed, picking Alexander up in one swift motion. The sensation of Thomas’ arms holding him had become so familiar, Alexander didn’t even realize how much time had passed since the first time – that time in the library, was it? Two-something months ago? Damn. And Thomas’ scent too, some fancy French cologne no less, but there’s some earthy undertone too, something that reminds Alexander of a day in nature, of lying on a dew-covered meadow, grass green in the spring, and a bunch of daisies and dandelions scattered about. Lying in a shade of a blooming cherry tree, not a cloud in the sky. Free like a bird, as they say.

Alexander was abruptly shaken out of his daydream when he was put down in his wheelchair. It was a familiar place, and it made him feel safe in a way. He noticed he was at a table, and in front of him there was a plate with pancakes. On the top pancake, there were two small spots of whipped cream, and on top of each there was a blueberry. Above each of them there was a thin strip of whipped cream too. In the middle, there was a thin, square slice of butter; and finally, with what he supposes was strawberry or raspberry jam, a small arch-like shape was made. Under it, there was a rectangle-shaped patch of maple syrup, and a little stripe above it. There was also some atop the pancake. It held an uncanny resemblance to a specific person.

He snorted skeptically, “Is that my face… on a pancake?”

Thomas grinned, “So it may be.”

“You made my face on a pancake.”

“So I did,” he said through a mouthful of pancake.

Alexander shook his head fondly, his lips twitching up in a small smile.

§

Sally left around noon, but Eston stayed with Thomas and Alexander. Alexander had plenty of fun with a kid, turns out, the little thing is really smart. For a 2-year-old, that is. He could already pronounce some rather complicated words, like luminescence or celestial (complicated for a 2-year-old, again).  
Thomas also showed Alexander his unfairly huge library, and Alexander spent like 3 hours straight in there. He read a little, but mostly explored. There was a balcony at the center of the shelf. Thomas carried him up the stairs of course, and carried him while Alexander explored all the shelves, abiding his every request as to where to move, when to hold him up (because Thomas was just strong like that), and then finally they left the library.

**

As of right now, Alexander is doing pull-ups in Thomas’ gym (yes he has a gym). He’s a little out of shape, but he’s doing alright, he thought. Luckily, he brought sweatpants and a T-shirt, despite the possibility of being quite chilly in this time of year. Thomas lent him a towel to wipe his sweat away with, which he was thankful for. The man did some running on the treadmill and some push-ups, before leaving the gym in favor of a warm shower.

His phone suddenly rang, and he noticed four people have contacted him in the past 6 hours he didn’t look at his phone.

**_Martha Wayles [10:34am]_ **   
_Eliza is in labor. Everything is going well, thought you should know._

**_Eliza Schuyler-Wayles [04:23pm]_ **   
_We got a baby boy!!!!! his name is Philip Elijah Hamilton. Martha insisted on the middle name ‘elijah’ because supposedly it sounds like a male version of elizabeth. she’s too good. Also im sending a pic of him xx_

**_Eliza Schuyler-Wayles [04:24pm]_ **   
_Attachment: pip.jpg_

**_Danny [12:09pm]_ **   
_daddy g-wash and momma martha are going on a vay-cay to mount vernon. They say it’d be nice if you came by while you’re already down south, peace out bro_

Alexander let himself sit on a sweaty mat and grin at the phone like an idiot. He quickly answered to all of them, before putting the phone away and getting himself up into his wheelchair, with a little help of the wooden pull-up pole, just to be safe and ensure that another wheelchair accident won’t happen – especially in this new fancy wheelchair that Thomas got him.

When he got into the living room, after showering, he saw Thomas sitting on the couch, something on his lap. At first, it looked like a small dog.

“What the fuck is that?” Alexander questioned.

Thomas scoffed, “A cat.”

“That’s no cat. That’s a freak of nature,” he stated. In Thomas’ lap, sure enough was a cat; but one of those expensive naked cats with wrinkly skin, what are they called – sphinx? It wore some kind of a sweater, a purple one no less.

“Her name is Lucy. She’s my baby, okay?”

“It looks like a four-legged scrotum,” Alex muttered, situating his wheelchair next to the couch. He grabbed the glass of water Thomas left for him at the table, “Like a 60-year-old man’s nutsack.”

“Cut that blasphemy,” Thomas warned, and then looked at his cat, cooing, “It’s okay baby, the grumpy little man didn’t mean anything bad by it.”

Alexander rolled his eyes.

§

Around 8 o’clock, Alexander decided that he might as well visit the Washingtons. They didn’t live awfully far away, so he assured Thomas he’ll be fine going on his own. It was progressively getting darker and darker, but the streetlights made it easier for him to find his way.

Luckily, there was a ramp for him to climb when he reached Mount Vernon, and he rung the bell. George opened the door, and wasn’t really surprised when he saw his son.

“Alexander,” he smiled, “Nice of you to come by. Come in.”

“Thanks for having me, Mr. President,” Alexander teased, to which George responded by rolling his eyes fondly. Martha already waited for them in the dining room, tea brewing. Their cat, a tabby tom by the name of ‘Alexander’, jumped into Alexander’s lap, and the man instinctively started petting him. The cat purred happily. It was nice seeming an actual cat for a change, and not a ballsack-looking excuse of an animal.

“I hear Elizabeth has had a baby,” Martha started.

“Yeah, just today. His name is Philip, he’s quite adorable.”

Washington hummed in agreement, “How’s John, son?”

“I- uh,” Alexander’s breath hitched in his throat, “Okay, I guess?” and then he remembered that he hadn’t actually told his parents about the breakup. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss it, so he’ll just leave it like that.

“That’s nice. Do you have any plans already?”

“What kind of plans?”

George shrugged, trying to appear as if he didn’t hint at a wedding. Alexander shook his head lightly and went on sipping his tea. He changed the subject fairly quickly after that.

§

Thomas was still up when he came back. He was making popcorn, and informed him that he was about to watch a movie. Sally came to pick up Eston at some point, so they didn’t have to worry about being too loud. They settled on the couch, and Thomas even suggested he joined him. The movie was tense at first, and required plenty of arguing among the two men, so much so that Alexander even contemplated punching Thomas in the face. But eventually, as the clock marked midnight, they settled down. Thomas, lying across the couch, and Alexander, sandwiched between Thomas and the back of the couch in question, one arm draped across his chest as he softly snored in the fabric of the man’s sweater.

And if Thomas slowly stroked Alexander’s hair as he slept, nobody needed to know about it.

 


	13. Un, Deux, Trois...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oKAY wOw this is super late??? two weeks?? tWO? i promise it'll never happen again. thing was, i was sick for a week and missed a lot of school, i also had a couple of tests and i just... didn't have time. buttt it's here.
> 
> *note: the final pairing is still jamilton (in case this chapter makes it unclear ;;))))

Alexander woke up in the same position he fell asleep in, however, the couch seemed oddly empty than before. He quickly realized that it was because it lacked a certain Virginian. That was fine though. It wasn't like Alexander was surprised. However, he could hear what he assumes are pots and pans from the kitchen, which means that Thomas is cooking again. Alexander learned, throughout his stay in Monticello, that Thomas seemed to like to cook. Which he didn't mind, because he could make some terrific, absolutely mouth-watering meals. As if on cue, the southerner just appeared at the doorway of the living room stopping Alexander mid-thought. When their eyes met, Alexander could swear Thomas was looking at him in the short period the smaller man had spaced out, but he couldn’t really prove it, and at this point it didn’t matter, because he looked as if he was saying something and Alexander should really try not to get distracted by him. 

“… so yeah, if you’re in the mood for that, we could do it.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Alexander blurted like a fucking idiot. 

“I said,” Thomas rolled his eyes, “Tomorrow’s Halloween. We should totally go get some costumes and throw a party.”

“Okay,” Alex said, “But pray tell, who are we going to invite to the said party?”

“Were you even listening to me?” Thomas let out an exasperated sigh.

“I -”

“Don’t bother,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Like I said- everyone usually comes from New York to Monticello for this celebration, party, call it whatever you like. Like, it’s not even an option. Angelica, James, Lafayette… and since now I’ve met the most of your… crew, or whatever, I thought we can invite them too. Hercules, Peggy… um… John?”

“Oh,” Alexander voiced, “Sur-”

“That is, if you’re on good terms with him yet? I don’t want to push it -”

“No, Thomas, it’s fine,” he reassured, “And, of course we could do it.”

“Great,” Thomas beamed, and tried to hide it. But Alex easily saw through him, “First of all, we need to put up some decorations. Get ready, we’re going to the mall.”

The mall in Charlottesville was much larger than Alexander originally thought. Alexander kept looking around, starry-eyed. This trip certainly lived up to its expectations. The entirety of the halls were decorated accordingly. Thomas commented how, quote unquote,  _ spoopy _ it is, and Alexander threatened to never talk to him again if he used that word in his vicinity. Thomas, of course, laughed at him and called it an ‘empty threat’.

The first shop they stopped in was where they got the most of the things, some of which were as follows: fake skeletons, fake pumpkins, small gnomes (for whatever reason, Alexander doesn’t really see the logic behind this one), a lot of orange fairy lights (Thomas also says that this is a very good idea, because they can use it the second time on Christmas. Alexander frowned at Thomas’ use of ‘they’, as if Alex will be at Monticello for Christmas. But he stopped himself from mentioning it, and only resorted on telling Thomas how much he acts like a white suburban mom called Sheryl), a kettle which they will fill with candy, some fake ghosts, orange and white jars in which they can put a candle and create a ‘spoopy atmosphere’ (Alex almost slapped him), and finally, some barrels (???????), hay (????), and different types of fabrics and cloths to decorate the rooms some more.

“I reckon we have more than enough of everything here,” Alexander grumbled as they moved everything from the shopping cart to the back of Thomas’ very fancy pick-up truck.

“We just need to do two more things,” Thomas decided as he shut the tailgate closed.

“What?” Alexander inquired, frowning. He wheeled over to the door and easily got in, thanks to the little ramp Thomas set up, and the man in question pushing him up it.

“We need to get alcohol,” he said, and went to the driver’s side of the truck, got in and closed the door, “And then I’m taking you out to dinner. We’ve had a long day,” and with that, he started the truck, driving off the mall parking lot.

Buying alcohol was rather fun. Turns out, in the realm of beer and wine, Thomas wasn’t really an expert. Alexander enjoyed watching him sweat and flush as he asked the saleswoman at least a million questions, and when she left, Alex evealed that he actually had a taste in different types of whiskey, scotch, bourbon, and so on. Thomas sent him a death glare and continued drilling holes in the back of Alex’s skull as the smaller man traveled trough the isles and kept picking what he thought was quality booze. 

It did cost a lot, but Thomas wasn't really poverty-stricken, to put it that way. He probably wipes his ass with hundred-dollar bills, to be honest. Explains how he could afford to buy Alexander this totally swagger (yeah,  _ swagger _ , he said it) wheelchair. 

It was around five o’clock when they entered Louis’ Diner. The place was warmly lit, with a lot of plaid pattern on the curtains, chairs, booths, and table cloths, and smell of home-made pie. Something typical for this part of the US, maybe, and certainly a place where Thomas would eat.

Alexander thought for a moment that he might’ve seen Sally here, and thought he was crazy for a moment as well – but no, she really does work here. She sauntered over to their table, hair in a neat bun, dressed up in a plaid dress and a white apron, “Nice to see you again,” she smiled sweetly.

“Be a lamb, darlin’, get me and Alexander here some hot chocolate, will ya,” Thomas grinned slyly, and then looked at Alex, “Anything else, angel mine?” the bastard obviously gloated in how visibly Alex blushed at the nickname (as always). Sally rolled her eyes.

“N-no thanks,” he squeaked, voice all too pitchy for his own liking.

“Very well,” said Sally and sauntered off. The rest of their dinner wasn’t very thick with tension, thankfully. Thomas joked a couple of times how romantic he is and what a date expert he is, which resulted in a good-natured eye roll from Alexander. They were home in about an hour and a half, and got to decorating.

“I just don’t see why we had to get hay. This is going to make it twice as hard to clean up,” Alexander grumbled as he laid the said hay on one of the decoration barrels, and around it.

“You can’t get a good Halloween-ey feel if you don’t make it look like we’re in an abandoned field,” Thomas replied as he put up white cloth above the doorway leading to the main corridor. 

“If you wanted a field we could have had a bonfire in the field,” Alexander said dryly, glancing behind himself at Thomas, who was still facing in the opposite direction.

“Well if you want to be attacked by witches and zombies, by all means, go into the field,” Thomas winked at Alex, who deadpanned at him. This was so over the top; they could have had a small party and get it over with, but no, somebody is a little child that has to make his entire house a haunted castle. 

When Alexander finally finished with hay, he put couple of pumpkins on the barrel and one or two on the floor right next to it. He decided to put the skeletons around, which proved to be harder while handling a wheelchair along with it, but he managed well enough. 

“I reckon we’re done,” Thomas wiped the sweat off his forehead with a rag. Alexander nodded and smiled, kind of proud how spooky they made the bottom floor of Monticello look. Thomas apparently already sent the others invitations via e-mail, and the only thing left to do was rest.

“Yeah. Help me onto the couch, will ya?” Alexander asked casually, and Thomas complied without a second thought. He kind of enjoyed helping Alexander like that. On one hand, it made him feel useful, and on the other hand, he liked being close to him in the way of touching. Not in a creepy way, of course… But the closeness that grew between them made Thomas feel all giddy and excited, like a schoolboy with a crush. 

“There you go, angel,” Thomas said, his tone sarcastic but only as a cover for the fact that he really would like to call Alexander his ‘angel’ at some point.

“You’re the best, Tommy,” Alexander replied in the same way, mimicking Thomas with a smirk.

Thomas rolled his eyes and sat down next to him, passing Alex the remote as he scrolled through Twitter. He also saw Angelica and Aaron confirming that they’ll come, which was great.

**

Theodosia, Eliza and Martha came too, although Eliza and Martha wouldn't be able to join the party. They’ll be at Sally’s house, looking out for Eston, Teddy and Philip. They said they’ll come by tomorrow about noon to hang out, and it was completely understandable that they wouldn’t want their babies near alcohol, scary stuff, loud sounds etc. Sally and Theo, on the other hand, decided that they haven’t partied in too long, with children and all, so they might as well. 

Other guests would be Angelica, Aaron, James, Hercules, Laf, John (which was strange, but okay), and Peggy. What an odd bunch. 

The first ones to arrive are James and Maria, even though she wasn’t invited per se – but nobody minded her being there. When Aaron and Theo came, Theo chattered with Maria in the kitchen, trying to make her feel welcome. She seemed like a shy girl, and it would probably take a while for her to adjust (not surprising, considering her former affiliations). Then came the Schuyler sisters + Martha. Eliza  and Martha left quite soon, and when they arrived to Sally’s house, Sally got to Monticello. Hercules, Lafayette and John arrived together, which wasn’t a surprise. 

At first it was quite tame. It was sitting in the living room and talking, everyone more or less on their first glass of wine. Hercules was talking about some chick he met online, supposedly over Lafayette. A girl from France who’s moving to New York and will probably go on a date with him. Lafayette keeps going on and on about his Adrienne, his ramblings turned to laments the more alcohol he consumed. Alexander and Thomas, unsurprisingly, spent the most of the night pretty close. At some point some kids came trick or treating, and John totally melted and gave them more candy that he should have. Alexander thought it was cute. Which was a pretty odd sensation, since he didn’t feel a positive emotion related to John in three or so months now. But he was happy that the pressure of hating him was removed. He didn’t like holding grudges. 

Theodosia and Sally hit it off really well. Maria and Peggy did too, and Maria turned into a whole another person. She became cheerful and relaxed around them, even started cracking jokes. Alexander loved her already.

Alexander also came to find something he’d probably never expect, that being the fact that Thomas “Holier Than Thou” Jefferson is an extremely cuddly drunk. Alexander was lying across the couch and Thomas seemed to be half asleep on top of him. No matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t get him to get off. Then again, he didn’t  _ really _ mind. He was absently threading his fingers through Thomas’ curls, “Tommy?” he purred, smug. Thomas didn’t seem to pick up on the fact that Alexander was teasing him.

“Hm?” he hummed into the fabric of Alexander’s shirt.

“You’re heavy.”

“You’re cute, let’s get the obvious out of the way,” Thomas murmured. Alexander wasn’t sure he heard him right. 

“What was that?”

Thomas, seemingly realizing his mistake, tried to salvage the situation, “Nothin- I said that you’re being annoying.”

“Sure you did,” Alexander laughed, trying to cover up the fact that his heart was beating like crazy, threathening to jump out of his chest. Thomas, although, did in fact get off of Alexander, but only to go grab himself more drink. When he came back though, Thomas was holding two glasses and handed one to Alexander, while Alexander sat up. He also sat on the armchair and not the sofa, which left Alex a little disappointed, but it was no big deal. They weren’t alone, certainly, a lot of people were around the room, just not in the couch area. Aaron joined them, a bottle of wine in hand. He was giggling a lot and at some point completely fell into Thomas’ lap. Thomas didn’t seem to mind, catching the bottle right before it fell and taking a swing. Alexander had nothing to lose, and downed whatever Thomas poured into his glass. It burned in his throat and he hissed as the liquor went down, and momentarily he felt really good.

“Oh,  _ shit _ , I can hear colors,” Alexander gasped, “You’re looking funny, To-Tommy.” 

“You’re such a fucking lightweight, Alexander,” he heard a voice tell him as the person passed by, their voice feminine enough for him to figure out it was not one of the guys. 

“I said -,” he heard Thomas and then looked at him, eyebrow raised, “- I said you’re cute, okay?”

“I’m cute?” Alexander frowned, “No, I’m manly. Fear me, you filthy mortal.”

“Cute.”

“Manly.”

“Cute.”

“Terrifying.”

“Adorable.”

“Your worst nightmare -”

“Precious.”

“- the danger lurking from the shadows -”

“Endearing,” but this time, it didn’t come from Thomas. No, it was Burr who murmured it. Thomas and Alexander both looked equally appalled. 

“Y’all are gay as fuck,” Alex scoffed, trying to sustain his chill exterior but was high-key freaking out on the inside. This night took an interesting turn of events.

“Aren’t you the token straight?” Thomas asked Burr.

“Man, I dunno anymore,” Burr slurred out.

“Yeah, I don’t either,” Alexander watched the two have a drunken heart-to-heart while cuddling. Ah yes, the epitome of heterosexual-ness. 

**

In short, Alexander woke the next morning covered in sweat and what he assumed had to be come, his face full of black curls, sprawled across the couch, Burr on top of him and Thomas on the floor, leaned against the couch, his head tipped back and resting on Alexander’s shoulders. 

What the fuck happened yesterday?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, sorry for waiting


	14. Nemam Ideju Kako Nazvati Ovo Poglavlje Ali Nitko Tu Ne Priča Hrvatski, Što Je Super Jer Se Ovaj Naslov Čini Fancy Ili Nešt Tak, A To Je U Biti I CIlj

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was busy, sorry this is updated literally 20 days late
> 
> i wanna say this won't happen again, but i am knees-deep into exams and stuff...so idk
> 
> anyways, enjoy?
> 
> **note: burr/ham/jeff stuff isn't resolved yet

When Alexander woke up, he didn’t have much clue as to what was going on. He was sweaty and sticky all over the place, but he happily concluded that he was still dressed…. Mostly. There was some weight on him, and he barely dared to open his eyes. He half expected it to be Thomas, and was confused when he saw Burr, who was still sleeping. He cussed silently. He was about to wiggle and move, but someone was faster. Wouldn’t you know it, Thomas was sitting down on the floor, leaned onto the couch. Alexander’s hand was limp on his shoulder and he immediately retrieved it.

“What the fuck...” Thomas muttered and rubbed his forehead, then turned his head around, “Oh fuck,” his and Alexander’s eyes met.

“Good morning to you too,” Alexander grumbled, voice surprisingly leveled.

“I’m… what did we do?”

“You’re asking as if it’s not obvious,” Alexander deadpanned, “Now be a sweetheart and get Burr off of me, my arm is getting numb,” he wiggled the said arm, which was stuck between the back of the couch and Burr. Thomas nodded and got up, looked down and pulled his pants up when he saw they were around his mid thigh. He also fixed his shirt and easily lifted Burr up. He set him down on the sofa, and then Burr woke up. His first reaction was less calm than Thomas’ and Alexander’s, for the lack of better word. Alexander could help but be amused at first, but then his head decided to remind him how much he drank yesterday. He eyed a come stain on the front of his pants but decided he’ll take care of it later. He just needs some water and aspirin for now. “Help me into the wheelchair, Thomas?” he asked and Thomas complied. Immediately he wheeled into the kitchen.

The kitchen was in a state of chaos. He saw Theodosia and Sally in a very compromising position, still sleeping. So he said nothing and tried to be as quiet as possible not to wake them up. He, however, did put two glasses of water and aspirins for each on the counter, after taking his own. Burr walked in after Alexander set his glass down. He rose his eyebrows at Theo and Sally, looked at Alexander but said nothing again. On the bright side, Theo won’t be able to be too angry with Burr because she did pretty much the same thing.

**

Pretty much everyone woke up around 3 p.m. They cleaned up the leftovers from the party and were in the living room. Nearly everyone was relaxed and in a good mood, except Burr, Thomas and Alexander. There was a lot of uncomfortable silence between them, but it didn’t stop Alexander from leaning against Thomas’ shoulder tiredly while they watched the news.

“I should call Eliza, and we should head home,” said Martha and Peggy and Angelica agreed with her.

“I should go with you to pick up Eston,” Sally chimed in and they shortly talked about the ride back to New York.

“Thomas?” Alexander asked quietly, not to interrupt the girls.

“Yeah?” Thomas glanced at him.

“Are you coming back to New York?”

“I… I dunno,” Thomas shrugged, taking a sip from his water glass.

“Pleaseeee,” Alexander wailed jokingly, a smile on his face.  
“What, don’t tell me you missed me that much,” Thomas snorted.

“I did,” Alexander admitted and watched Thomas’ brows furrow with what must be confusion, “I came all the way to Virginia to see your cocky, velvet-covered ass, don’t act oblivious.”

“Alright,” Thomas sighed, “I’ll… I’ll come. Happy?”

“Very.”

Thomas snorted, murmuring, “Clingy gremlin.” Alexander punched him in the shoulder half-heartedly.

“Ayy, Thomas?”

“What now, Alexander?”

“What did you do to Burr yesterday?” Alex laughed, eyeing Burr and Theo whispering something with seemingly serious expressions. They didn’t seem angry with each other, though, just… confused.

“Me? Nothing. I just think he had one too much,” Thomas watched them too.

“More like one bottle too much,” Alexander huffed, and Thomas laughed.

Thomas’ laughed attracted Angelica’s attention and she cocked and eyebrow at him, “Are y’all besties now or what? Last time I saw you, you were about to chew each other’s head off.”

“Of course not, I still loathe his magenta ass,” Alexander smirked.

Thomas looked at him, scoffed, and then looked at Angelica, “Nah, I still hate this little pissant dick, I just ran out of strength to keep him on a distance.”

“I hate you with every inch of my body,” Alexander frowned at Thomas, crossing his arms across his chest.

“That’s not very many inches...”

“You- I-,” Alexander gasped. He moved his head closer, only two or so centimeters away from Thomas’, _“I won’t hesitate, bitch.”_

Thomas chuckled and quickly pecked a kiss to the tip of Alexander’s nose, “Sure you won’t, darlin’,” he murmured in a saccharine voice, which totally didn’t make Alexander blush wildly and bury his face in his hands. Thomas shook his head and cackled. He practically heard Angelica rolling her eyes.

**

It was around 5 o’clock when they all got ready to head back to New York. The Schuylers, Martha and Sally included, drove off around 4. Burr and Theo decided they could drop off John and Laf. Hercules offered a ride to Thomas and Alexander, because they both oh-so-wisely didn’t come here with a car. After Thomas was asked why, he gave them some lame-ass answer that Alexander didn’t even bother to dignify by memorizing it. They sat in the back seat because Alexander, ‘ever the helpless baby’, as Thomas said, didn’t want to be alone there. Alexander defended himself by saying it isn’t cool when you have to poke your head through the space between the seat to talk.

“Sure thing, hobbit,” Thomas rolled his eyes as he got into the car.

“Just- fucking drive, Herc,” Alexander groaned.

**

After nearly 5 hours of driving, they were all hella tired, and had about 3 hours more to go. Thomas and Hercules agreed to switch so Herc would rest, and Thomas would drive the rest of the way. Which was easier said than done, because Alexander fell asleep with his head on Thomas’ lap and seemed adamant not to move.

“Don’t be a child, Hamilton,” Thomas let out an exasperated sigh.

“ _Hamilton_? Oh you wound me so, good sir,” Alexander rolled his eyes, still not moving.

“You’re being annoying.”

“...But you’re soft and nice to lay on,” Alexander murmured.

Thomas rolled his eyes, “But Hercules needs a break too.”

Alexander huffed, “Fine,” and finally let Thomas get out of the car. Hercules could have moved to ride shotgun, but he slid right into Thomas’ place. Softly, careful not to let Thomas hear, he said, “Okay, spill.”

“Spill what? There’s no tea yet, Herc,” Alexander frowned in confusion.

Hercules gave him a look easily translated to, ‘oh really’.

“I’m serious!”

“Sure. Okay then, what’s your deal with Thomas?”

“My deal with Thomas? I don’t have ‘deal’ with Thomas, there’s no such thing,” Alexander lied unconvincingly.

“Come on, Alex, we both know what a poor lie that is.”

“Fine, fine! I like him. Kind of. Just a little,” another lie, but Herc let it slide this time, “But it doesn’t matter, because he already likes somebody else.”

“No he doesn’t,” Herc scoffed.

“He does, he told me,” Alexander persisted.

“He’s a lame liar, then, much like yourself. We all see it, y’know.”

“You don’t see shit,” Alexander huffed.

“Suit yourself,” Hercules shrugged.

**

“Home sweet home, eh?” Thomas said as he pulled over in front of their building.

“Sure is,” Alexander said and waited for Hercules to get his wheelchair out of the trunk. Herc helped him out and Alexander followed Thomas to the door. Thomas held it open for him, _like a proper southern gentleman_ , Alexander teased. Thomas gently swatted him upside the head but Alexander laughed it off.

They were also the ones that came home first (except Schuylers). Madison and Maria were not home yet. Alexander entered his apartment and took a deep breath in. He noticed that the TV was on, and there was food on the counter.

“Hello, fellow American!” he heard the obnoxious, oh-so-familiar, over-exaggerated, British accent.

“Hey there, fuckass,” Alexander grinned at George, who walked out of his room. George ruffled his hair, and Alexander swatted his hand away.

“How’s the fam?” Alexander asked, rolling into the kitchen and grabbing a soda out of the fridge.

“They’re fine,” George sat down onto the bar stool, “How’s your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend? John and I-”

“No, not that one,” George interrupted, “I’m talking about the one you went following down south like a puppy.”

“Thomas? He’s not my boyfriend,” Alexander got defensive.

“Don’t tell me you have a crush!” he teased, “Oh that’s just precious. Little Ham went starry eyed over a southern boy.”

“Did not -”

“Don’t lie.”

“Fine, whatever, go fuck yourself.”

“No thanks, I have Sam for that,” George wiggled his eyebrows.

“TMI, Frederick, T-M- _fucking_ -I,” Alexander screeched.

George was about to respond, but a knock onto the door interrupted him. He got up and walked towards the door. From where he stood, Alexander couldn’t see who was at the door, but of course Frederick made it as clear as possible in the worst possible way, “Alexander, your Tommy came over!” he said in a sing song voice and exaggerated posh accent, “Do come in,” he heard and Thomas walked in.

“So, this may sound awkward,” Thomas began, “But James is late and I don’t have the key to my apartment and I have no place to stay. So I was wondering if I could use y’all’s couch?”

“Of course -” Alexander went to say, but again, Frederick was faster.

“No need, my friend. Couches can get uncomfortable, and I think Alexander’s bed is big enough for two. I’d offer you mine, but I already have someone staying over,” So Samuel is here too. Well isn’t that just perfect?

“I wouldn’t want to intrude -”

“I assure you, Alexander is more than happy to share. Aren’t you, Alexander?” George looked at Alexander, who by this point buried his face into his hands again, red in the face and the tips of his ears burning.

“Yep,” was all Alex could manage at this point.

“Alex, are you sure?” Thomas checked again.

“I’m sure.”

“Marvelous!” George clapped his hands, “Alexander will show you to his room now.”

“Let’s go,” Alexander said, because what else would he say? – and wheeled over to the room, Thomas right behind him. They got in and Thomas closed the door.

Alexander’s room wasn’t by any means big, but wasn’t too cramped either. It was in a rectangular shape, the shortest wall being the one with the door on it. Opposite of the door was a huge window. To the right of the window was the bed, and to the right was a desk. The walls in the room were pastel yellow, and most of the furniture was made of dark wood, which offered a nice contrast. There were shelves above the bed as well, and books on every available surface. The carpet in the middle of the room was light green, and fluffy as shit.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Thomas sat down onto the bed.

“Yeah, totally,” Alexander confirmed, this time more confidently, “I would offer it regardless of Frederick saying anything, but of course he’s gotta be a pain in the ass with it.”

Thomas snorted, “Okay.”

“Besides, I’ve showed up uninvited to Monticello and pestered you for days. The least I can do is repay the favor.”  
“Am I intruding…?”

“No!” Alexander assured, “That’s not what I meant. I meant, you’re welcome here anytime. God, since when did you become so shy and paranoid about everything?”

“Did I?”

“Totally,” Alexander laughed and Thomas laughed with him.

  



	15. She's Back, Hoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hELLO!!!!
> 
> no I didn't forget about this, what are you talking about??
> 
> in all seriousness, I've had a really busy month, exams, my birthday, dealing with life in general etc etc
> 
> We're coming close to an end, can you believe?
> 
> Also big thanks to my gorgeous significant other, Alexandra, for beta-ing this chapter.

          Alexander woke up with a warm body curled around his own, his back against somebody’s chest, that same somebody’s arm wrapped tightly around his middle. Thomas, he recalled. Thomas asked him to stay over yesterday.

          Alexander knew it was most likely around noon and that he should get up, but somehow the prospect of getting out of bed right then seemed absolutely repulsive, which was unusual. But alas, he had things to do and couldn’t lie around all day. He wiggled out of Thomas’ embrace, which, surprisingly, didn’t wake the Virginian up. Thomas merely turned around and grabbed a pillow, pushing one arm underneath it and holding the side of it firmly with the other. Alex carefully got out of the bed, which proved a little difficult considering he’d been sleeping near the wall, and Thomas at the edge, but he managed. He quickly stripped himself out of his pajamas and put a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie, both quite old but comfortable pieces of clothing for a Sunday. Then he pulled over his wheelchair and was about to get in when –

        Oh, wait.

        Oh, fuck.

        It was not Sunday.

        It was Monday. He had to go to work.

        He glanced at the clock; it was 1:38. He still has 20 minutes to get to the library. He probably won’t make it. He rolled over to Thomas and ruffled his hair until the man woke up.

        “Mornin’,” he drawled, accent thicker than usual (and if that doesn’t make Alexander feel things.)

        “I need a ride to the library, please,” Alex said, hopeful.

        “Yeah, okay,” Thomas agreed and sat up, rubbing his eyes, “Now?”

        “Yes, now, you idiot,” Alexander covered his face with his palm.

        “Keep it up and you’ll have to find yourself someone else to drive you,” Thomas threatened but stood up regardless. He was still dressed in his yesterday’s clothing, so he only had to put on his shoes.

        “Yeah, sure,” Alexander snorted, “Empty threats.”

        Thomas gave him a look but said nothing. He pushed Alexander’s wheelchair out of the room, careful not to bump into anything, and then out of the apartment. They went towards the elevator, got in, and were in the lobby in no time. When they reached Thomas’ car, Thomas easily puts him in the passenger’s seat and folded the wheelchair to fit under Alexander’s feet. He got in next and started the car. The drive to the library didn’t take more than 5 minutes, and at that rate, they Alexander would have 5 minutes to spare before his shift officially began.

        “I’m coming in, I need coffee,” Thomas said once they arrived.

        “I wasn’t aware that you were abusing the privileges of free coffee for employees,” Alexander joked.

        “The perks of being friends with multiple librarians,” Thomas shrugged. When they got through the door, Thomas let Alexander make his way towards the reception desk, while he made his way towards the coffee machine in the back.

        “You were almost late,” Burr noticed when he walked by, “What’s up with that? You usually come 30 minutes early.”

        “I slept in,” Alexander said simply. Which was true.

        “Right. Thomas doesn’t have anything to do with that?” Burr cocked an eyebrow.

        “No!” Alexander practically screeched, “Why does everyone think that?”

        “So you’re not fucking?”

        “No, Burr, we’re not,” he hissed.

        “Fine, fine,” He rose his hands up in a defensive way. Thomas snorted while pouring his coffee. Alexander, meanwhile, made his way to the aisles of books, wanting some peace. So, he did fancy Thomas, a little. Why did it have to be such a big deal to everyone? A mystery to him.

        Even though he was not supposed to read during his shift – or at least, not read unless it’s aloud and to kids, he did anyway. The book he happened to grab was The Song of Fire and Ice. He was never a Game of Thrones fanatic, but he’ll give it a go. Supposedly, it was really good and one could easily get consumed by it. Which is exactly what he needs right now.

 *

        Alexander lost the track of time.

        Completely.

         And not only that, he fell asleep too. Which was not good at all. He could get fired for that shit, and he had no doubt in mind that Burr or Seabury would both gladly snitch on him. He jumped up and the book fell from his lap and onto the floor when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

        “It’s just me, sweetheart,” He heard an all-too-familiar drawl, “Relax.”

        “Th-Thomas, yeah, of course. I knew that,” Alexander huffed. He was going to bend down to pick up the book, but Thomas was quicker. He handed it to him, but the bastard closed it too. How is he supposed to know which page did he stop on? But of course, Thomas would do that. Why is he even surprised at this point? Alexander rolled his eyes, “You’re impossible.”

        “Debatable,”

        “Why do I even keep you around?”

        “Beats me,” Thomas shrugged, but smirked.

        “What do you want, anyway?”

        “A will to live and a sense of purpose would be nice for starters. Maybe some motivation too,” Thomas sat down, leaning against a bookshelf.

        “Such an edge lord.”

        “You know me,” Thomas chuckled, “Anyways, did you see Burr today?”

        “Yeah, when I came in. Why you ask?”

        “Cause I’ve been around doing your shift all day, and every time he’d look at me he’d get this weird, kind of embarrassed look on his face and look away. I’m willing to place my bets that it’s because we’ve done things at Monticello.”

        “...you’ve taken over my shift?”

        “Is that the only thing you’ve picked up from that conversation?” Thomas sighed and rolled his eyes, “But yeah, I did.”

        “Why would you?”

        “Do I need a reason?”

        “You’re Thomas Jefferson, so yeah, _darling_ , I’m afraid you do,” Alexander gave him a look.

        “It’s a nice thing to do, gosh. Do you have so little faith in me?”

        “Yeah.”

        Thomas snorted, “Thanks.”

*

        Alexander was surprised that Thomas stayed in the library until the very end of Alexander’s shift – which, admittedly, lasted about an hour longer after Thomas had woken him up. There were no customers, and Burr left too. He was not allowed to, technically, but he did. It’s not like Alexander could do much to stop him, to be honest.

        At that moment, Alexander was at the reception. Thomas sat down on Seabury’s swivel chair and rolled over to Alexander (since Sam was arranging books), and was entertaining himself by playing with Alexander’s hair. Which Alexander did not mind at all. He was moreover secretly enjoying it.

        Or, well, how ‘secretly’ it was rather debatable, seeing he’d sigh softly every time Thomas maybe scratched a good spot on his head. But Thomas didn’t seem to mind, so why should Alexander care?

        Exactly.

        The evening mostly revolved around Alexander doing paperwork and Seabury arranging books. It was a quiet night, something that rather soothed Alexander’s tastes. Long shifts were never a desirable thing (although he didn’t have much choice, seeing he took a week off for no reason other than missing somebody that wasn’t even his.)

*

        When 9 o’clock rolled around, Thomas was still here. Still next to Alexander (though he wasn’t playing with his hair anymore.) His arms were folded on the desk and his head was laid on top of them. His eyes were closed most of the time, but occasionally they’d flutter open, look at Alexander, and then close again.

        Alexander wondered what it meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously love y'all, thanks for being this patient


	16. "Not-date"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay you guys, we're getting there
> 
> and um -- a LONGer chapter??? what is this??
> 
> anyways, I wasn't planning on writing till the holidays but I got a sudden spike of inspiration and well... ITS FLUFFY AS FUCK AND JAMILTON BONDING TIME ENJOY

Alexander can recall Thomas driving him home, but he sure doesn’t recall crashing on Thomas’ couch. He propped himself up onto his elbows and looked around tiredly, rubbing his eyes and tucking his hair behind his ears. Much to his surprise, Thomas was there, curled up in a fetal position on the armchair next to the couch. He looked immensely uncomfortable and he was bound to cramp like this. Alex rolled over onto his stomach and stretched his arm as far as it’ll go until he could reach Thomas and shake him awake.

Thomas woke up with a flinch and a gasp, but he seemed to calm down once he saw that it was only Alexander, „Uh, hey?”

„Hey,” Alexander parroted, „Um, this was severely unplanned...”

„Yeah, I guess. But you seemed tired and I didn’t wanna wake you up.”

„...When was that?”

„You fell asleep at the library, remember? I don’t have a key to your place so I improvised,”

„I... thank you, Thomas,”

„Ah, don’t sweat it,” Thomas shrugged and sat up, stretching. And if his shirt rode up a little and Alexander took a peak, nobody had to know about that, „I’d do it anytime.”

„Okay,” Alexander nodded, „But still. How can I make it up to you?”

„Maybe... I don’t know,” Thomas looked down, furrowed his brows and scratched his chin. He looked back up eventually, „Go out with me? Like- like, not like a date or anything,” he was quick to add, „Just, y’know, two bros being dudes in a restaurant.”

Alexander laughed softly and covered his mouth with his hand, „Yeah, okay. But I want coffee first.”

Thomas seemed to relax a bit. He smiled, „One coming right up,” and headed to the kitchenette. He poured water into a coffee pot and put it down onto the stove.

„Y’just gonna leave me here or?” Alexander called out from the couch as he sat up.

„Guess not,” Thomas walked back up to him and picked him up without hesitation, „Your wheelchair is still in my car, by the way. Didn’t quite have the strength to take them out yesterday after getting you upstairs.”

„It’s fine, Tommy.”

Thomas sat him down onto the counter, next to the stove, „Tommy?” he smirked.

„I- um- yeah?” Alexander stuttered and cringed, „That wasn’t intentional-”

„Hey, hey, darling, it’s fine. Chillax,” Thomas assured and patted his head.

„Chillax? Who are you, a 2009 Brittney Spears?”

„Fuck you for real, I don’t even know why I’m making you coffee,” Thomas shook his head.

„Becauseee...,” Alexander batted his eyelashes and smiled sweetly at Thomas, „you love me.”

Thomas sighed and ran a hand through his hear. He looked as if he was about to say something, and then gave up midway. But eventually he did speak up, with a more serious expression and a spark in his eyes, „Yeah.” Alexander didn’t know whether it was the time to joke about this, so he didn’t. He just nodded and accepted the answer he got.

**

After the coffee, Thomas made him call in sick and spend the day huddled up on the couch, covered with at least 10 blankets, one fuzzier than the other (but each of them in the same disgustingly flamboyant shade of purple), blinds shut and all kinds of movies, from Disney to horror, playing on the TV. Alexander can’t say he’s too happy with horror movies, but Thomas seemed to like them and didn’t seem to mind Alexander hiding his face in his shoulder or clutching his upper arm whenever something scary happened.

„Is the big baby scared?” Thomas cooed tauntingly. Alex just rolled his eyes and whispered ‚yes’. Thomas dropped the smirk and draped his arm around Alex’s shoulders and his fingers would gently brush his arm occasionally, „We don’t have to watch this if you’re really that scared,” he said rather softly. Alexander’s heart nearabout exploded.

„N0, m’fine. I can do this.”

„Stubborn little thing,” Thomas shook his head with a sigh.

**

„So what about that ‚not date’ Thomas?” Alexander asked in a sing song voice once the movie had finished. It was around 18:30, a perfect time to go out, no?

„Depends. When do you wanna go?”

„Now.”

„Like right now? This moment?”

„Yeah, have I not been clear?” Alexander chuckled.

„No, you’ve been clear,” Thomas said and scratched the back of his neck, „I’m just... surprised.”

„About what?”

„About...” Thomas gestured vaguely with his hand in the air, „You wanting to spend... so much time with me.”

„Why wouldn’t I?” Alexander rose an eyebrow and titled his head.

„I don’t know,” he shrugged, „It was just a stupid assumption, ignore that I said anything.”

„No, come on. It’s fine.”

„Yeah, whatever,” Thomas got up, „Do you want me to take you to your place to change?”

Alexander removed the blanket and looked down at what he was wearing, „Nah, fuck it. Let’s just go, I gotta get out of this apartment right the fuck now!”

„Jesus, calm your titties Hamilton,” Thomas laughed, „I have to go get your wheelchair, you ain’t going anywhere without them.”

„What if I ask really, really nicely for you to carry me?”

„Not a chance,” Thomas said and walked out of the apartment with his car keys in hand.

**

The dinner was great, even though it wasn’t a dinner per se. They went to the ice-cream place around the corner despite it being winter and essentially night („I don’t have anything against eating ice cream this late, but bear in mind that when I had ice-cream for dinner, it wasn’t during the part of my life where I was the most mentally stable”).

Thomas was pushing the wheelchair through the park, „Don’t tell me- you were really a nude model?!”

„Yeah,” Thomas laughed, „Student loans are a bitch and nude modeling was payed quite well on the campus.”

„Lucky artists, am I right,” Alexander exaggeratedly winked, head tipped back to look up at Thomas.

„I actually have no idea who started the idea that life drawing classes have anything sexy going on,” Thomas rolled his eyes, „There is at least ten people in the room, and they’re all tired and covered in charcoal. The dude in front who’s starting at my nutsack has been trying to get the shading right for ten minutes now. He’s almost out of supplies. He’s crying.”

Alexander let out a roar of laughter at that, „Very well, Mr. Nude Model.”

„That wasn’t even creative, darling. Try harder with the nickname, would you?”

„Like Tommy maybe?”

„Yeah, like Tommy maybe,” Thomas mimicked the way Alexander spoke.

They eventually reached the stone bridge that stretches across a small ‚river’. It’s not even a real river, it’s more so for the decor. Alexander visibly tenses when they begin to cross it. Thomas stops the wheelchair at the middle of it, „Everything okay, Alex?” he asks tentatively.

„Y-yeah. Just keep going, please.”

„Are you hurting maybe? Please, what’s going on?” Thomas ask, voice already revealing his worry.

„It’s- it’s stupid, let’s just go.”

Thomas walks up to the front of the chair and crouches down in front of Alex, „Please? I can’t go on like this.”

Alexander sighs and averts his eyes, „You know J-John, right?” Thomas nods, frowning, „Well... this is the place where I had first kissed him and... I haven’t been here since the breakup.”

„Oh, sweetheart, that’s understandable,” Thomas sighs.

„No, it’s dumb,” Alexander buries his face in his hands. He’s not gonna cry now, is he? Not in front of Thomas. He can’t.

„Okay, let me try something, yeah?”

„Whatever,” his voice is muffled by his hands. He feels Thomas lifting him up and setting him down on a hard, cold surface. The bridge barrier. He feels big, warm hands, tentatively removing his own from his face, and Alexander lets the m drop to his lap. Thomas is in front of him when he opens his eyes.

„What are you doing?”

„Look around yourself and name a few pretty things you can see,” Thomas encourages, holding himself upright with each of his hands on one of Alexander’s sides.

Alex sighs. This is not gonna work, but does it anyway, „The river... the trees... the fireflies. Flowers,” he wants to say ‚you’ but decides against it on time.

„Good job. Tell me something about the river. Have you had any good experiences related to it?”

„Are you a fucking shrink or something now?”

„Alexander.”

„Okay,” another sigh, „When I was in my teens, I played with my dog -- a puppy then -- near the river. There were a couple more kids around, but I wasn’t paying attention to them. Suddenly my dog slipped and fell into the water. She was fine, swimming towards the shore, her tongue out and wagging her stupid tail. But I was scared to death, and I called for help. One of those kids left their friends and ran over towards me and helped my dog out. That’s how I met Hercules.”

„Feeling better?” Thomas asked, hopeful.

„A bit, but not really. I told you this was stupid, Thomas, we should just get out of here and forget that this ever happened, okay?”

„No. C’mon. Can you tell me anything else?”

„Don’t wanna,” Alexander tiredly laid his head on Thomas’ shoulder, and soon felt the other’s arm stroking his back soothingly. T’was nice.

„Can I maybe help you create some better memories, then?”

„And how may you do that, exactly?” Alexander looked up skeptically.

Much to his surprised, Thomas said nothing. He cradled Alexander’s cheek in his hand (Alexander maybe leaned into it) and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i genuinely love this chapter

Alexander was shocked, surprised, but definitely not opposed to what Thomas had done. However, he did kind of freeze, which was probably what made Thomas pull away suddenly like he did. Alexander found himself immediately missing the warmth and softness of Thomas’ lips against his own.

 

_Alexander had never heard of this ice-cream place Thomas had dragged him too, and admittedly, it did look a bit seedy at the first glance -- mainly because it was right next to a bar out of which, whenever somebody would open the door, a cloud of smoke would come out. It reeked of cigarettes and sweat, to the point where it would reach the ice-cream shop itself. But no, Thomas was persistent that they have ice-cream there, and Alexander couldn’t really refuse. One, because he couldn’t like run away, and two, because he was utterly helpless and would most likely do anything Thomas asked him to._

_However, it exceeded Alexander’s expectations by a mile. Despite looking seedy from the outside, Alex would even go so far as to say that it was fancy on the inside. The floor was made out of dark wood and the walls were painted a soft brown shade, with brick pillars and arches scattered around. It gave out a very... rustic vibe. It may have also been pricey (probably was), but Thomas insisted on treating him, since ‚he was the one taking him out anyways’._

 

Thomas looked worried, very much so, „I’m sorry- I was just- I assumed-”

„Thomas, calm dow-”

„No, I can’t. Fuck, Alexander, I thought you-”

„I do-”

 

„What?”

_„Who the fuck likes lemon flavored ice-cream?” Alexander frowned at him, wrinkling his nose and curling his lip in disgust when the waiter left._

_„I do,” Thomas said defensively, „Something wrong with that? Got a problem?”_

_„As the matter of fact, yes. It’s fucking disgusting, that’s my problem.”_

_„Not to me,”_

_„You’re not human anyways,”_

_Thomas laughed, „That’s rich, coming from you, Mr. 12 Cups Of Coffee A Day.”_

_„I’ve cut down with coffee, you and me both know that, Mr. I’ll Stalk You In The Library The Whole Day Because I Have No Friends Or Social Life.”_

_„Wow, Hamilton, that was a burn,” Thomas rolled his eyes, words laced with sarcasm._

_„Sure was,” Alexander huffed, unwilling to admit defeat._

_Their bickering was interrupted by the same waiter delivering their order, Thomas’ lemon flavored ice-cream and Alexander’s vanilla-and-chocolate mix („I’m 74 percent vanilla”)._

_Alexander keep angrily eyeing Thomas’ ice-cream, which in hindsight, might not have been the brightest idea, considering what Thomas did just then. The asshat dipped his finger into the ice-cream and then spread it all over the tip of Alexander’s nose. Alexander shrieked, „You utter bastard!” Thomas cackled, „You cock-sucking son of a bitch, you had the nerve -”_

_Thomas pretended to be scandalized, „The gall -” he supplied._

_„The audacity- you insolent motherfucker,” Alexander finished off eloquently, which Thomas didn’t hesitate to inform him of, „I hate you so, so much.”_

_„Of course you do, darling, of course,” Thomas gave him a foxy smile._

_„Shut up,” Alexander grumbled and went back to eating his ice-cream._

_„You know, you still have lil summin’ on your nose,” Thomas hummed innocently._

_„I know,”_

_„Gonna do anything about that?”_

_„Well I’m not gonna eat it, that’s for sure,”_

_Thomas nodded and scratched his chin, as if thinking about something, „Lean forward a bit, would you?”_

_„Why?” Alexander narrowed his eyes._

_„Just do it.”_

_The other man obviously hesitated, but did it anyways, one eyebrow raised. Thomas leaned forward too and licked the ice-cream off of him. A bit forward, but worth taking the risk -- at least he thinks so. Alexander suddenly was all red in the face, and averted his eyes, „I- um, thanks,” he murmured a bit shyly, which Thomas would never expect from him. He has never once in his life seen Alexander shy about anything. He’ll take that as a compliment. Why not?_

_„Cat got your tongue, sugar?”_

_„No,” Alexander muttered and shoved a spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth, and then proceeded to swallow it with more struggle than necessary, had he just taken his time. But no. He then yelped and set both of his hands onto his head, „Shit, fuck.”_

_„Brain freeze?”_

_Alexander nodded frantically. Thomas shook his head, „You’re a child.”_

_„M’so not,”_

_Thomas rolled his eyes._

 

„You heard me,” Alexander said, struggling to keep the eye contact with Thomas but managing somehow.

„Oh,” Thomas murmured. He looked down, then up, and finally his eyes flickered back to look at Alexander’s rapidly reddening face. Honestly, Thomas could probably hear his heart beat. His heart was racing like crazy.

„But, um,” Alexander fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, „What about your, you know, newly discovered boy crush?”

Thomas shook his head and laughed, „You really are as dense as a brick, aren’t you?”

„No- I don’t think so,” Alexander frowned, „I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

„You so are,” he shook his head again and visibly faltered, before pressing another short, soft kiss to Alexander’s lips. Alexander did kiss him back this time, but it unfortunately lasted about as long as a peck.

„I’m so not. I’m very intelligent and observant,” Alexander cracked a smile, tentatively gripping Thomas’ shirt at the collar and pulling him in for a kiss. Or a peck. Revenge, let’s say.

„You are,” Thomas scoffed, one of his hands sliding up Alexander’s thigh until it reached his hip, at which point he wrapped it around him. He propped his other arm up onto the bridge, now appearing a centimeter or two shorter than Alexander, bent down and all.

„I’m taller than you.”

„For the first and only time,” Thomas scoffed again and pecked his lips.

„You gonna torture me like this all day or do I get a proper kiss?”

„Hmm,” Thomas pretended to be deep in thought, „I’ll think about it.”

„Thomasss,” Alexander whined and clenched his hands into fists at his sides.

„Is the big baby gonna throw a tantrum if I don’t give him what he wants?” Thomas smirked.

„Yes,” Alexander pouted and folded his hands over his chest.

Thomas chuckled and made no further argument, but kissed Alexander deep and long, just how he wanted it. Alexander loosely slung his arms over Thomas’ shoulders, occasionally tugging at his hair on the back of his neck.

It was a good night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you guys have any suggestions, or anything you wanna see, leave a suggestion below tbh, i'm open for any ideas (i'll credit the person whose idea i choose)

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta-ed till chapter 10


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